Getting the Girl
by Lone Tube Sock
Summary: Miley's crushing on Lilly, Lilly's crushing on Miley. When will they finally get a clue?
1. Dear Diary

Miley absentmindedly chewed on the end of her pen as she mused over her latest entry. The glittery ink, earnestly scrawled across the page, was still glossy and wet. With a quick flick of her wrist, the pen popped out of her mouth, and Miley went back to doodling little hearts along the pink margins.

Mr. Stewart gently rapped on the door before poking his head in. "Dinner's on the table, darlin'. Jackson and I will be heading out to the airport in an hour."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll be down in a minute," she replied, quickly shielding the diary's sensitive material with a pillow.

"Okey dokey," he acknowledged, shutting the door as he left.

When Miley first began divulging her guts and innermost pangs to her diary, she opted to replace gender-specific terms like _she_ and _her_ with gender-neutral terms like _they_ and _them_, but as she grew older, and the occasional focus of her writing bordered on smut, the invariable object of her desire became so evident that even the most carefully placed attempts of gender-neutrality seemed more like pathetic, conscious denial. Miley sighed, tossed the pillow away, and penned down a final thought:

_I think… no… I know that I love her. Heck, who am I trying to kid? I've loved her since she punched Kevin Speilman for pulling on my pigtails and stealing my juice box in 4__th__ grade... _

Miley closed the diary, and secured it with the cheap lock that had accompanied it. She knew that a determined diary snoop would have no trouble busting through the flimsy lock, but it offered her a small, if embellished, sense of consolation. She sandwiched the diary between her mattress and box spring, and sprinted downstairs, two steps at a time.

Miley slid into a seat at the dining table, and quietly served herself a plate. Jackson fervently shoveled mashed potatoes, stew, and peas into his mouth. "My God, son, chew! Chew!" Gawked Mr. Stewart. He shook his head, and bit off an unmanageable chunk of dinner roll, grunting out a muffled, "I don't know where he gets it from."

Miley snickered. "As much as I'd love to join you two on this family foray, I'm glad I've got a Hannah Montana gig. This Stewart vs. the wilderness theme sounds like a world of bad news."

"Oh, we'll be okay Miley. I packed more than enough dehydrated food packs, and toilet paper this time. I know you're still a little sore about our last camping trip."

"A little sore? Daddy, Jackson and I fell into a mud pit patrolled by a mean momma boar while fighting for the last square of toilet paper. I don't know what was worse, almost getting mauled by a wild animal or losing that last toilet paper square..."

Miley and Jackson shuddered, zombie-ing off into the distance, replaying the incident in their heads… wincing as the toilet paper sheet flittered gracefully across the air—a sight more beautiful than many a prima ballerina, Miley and Jackson simultaneously lunging towards it, the wet and unpleasant _plop_ of their bodies slamming into the mud, the panic and premature mourning filling their eyes and stomachs as the sheet, undeterred, continued to flitter down… down… into the mud. Their mutual contempt for one another had been fleeting, quickly replaced by fear as they caught sight of a nasty maternal boar nearby, squealing and digging her hooves into the pliable earth. Although their throats had been stripped raw from all the ensuing screams, and their legs had been sore for days from the subsequent running, the two spoke in unison, "Definitely losing that toilet paper square."

Mr. Stewart put his fork down, and wiped his mouth. "Are you sure you and Lilly will be fine by yourselves for a whole week?"

Jackson wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the mention of Lilly. He made a high-pitched, grammar-school style _oooo_ing noise, which his father met with a stern _tutt_. Jackson, surprisingly intuitive for a pesky, thickskulled older brother, had been teasing his sister for years. Miley scowled and tossed a dinner roll at his head.

"Yes, Lilly and I will be fine, Daddy, don't you worry," she smiled, slightly flushed.

Miley hurriedly cleaned off the table, and scurried around the house, sorting out any messes before Lilly arrived. Darkness was steadfastly creeping upon the sky. She tactfully placed lit candles throughout the living room, and her bedroom before dimming the lights, but quickly reconsidered, thinking the move to be painfully forward. She blew the candles out, and brightened the lights a spike or two. She changed her outfit three times, and re-touched her hair and lip gloss twice before parking on the couch. She chewed on her bottom lip, mulling over whether or not the risk of losing Lilly's friendship outweighed the relief she'd gain by revealing her feelings.

The doorbell rang, spooking her from her silent reflections, and chastising her bold thoughts. Miley had deviated from the norm, purposely locking the front door to buy her a couple emergency, composure-straightening seconds. She fidgeted with her clothing, and hopped up on her feet, breathing steadily for a quick while before opening the door with a warm, "Hey, Lilly!"

"Miles," the blonde greeted coolly, tossing her bags on the floor, and wrapping the other girl in the snuggest of hugs. Miley sighed as she was engulfed, reciprocating the hug just as tightly, if not tighter.

The hug lasted longer than anticipated, and that's when Miley felt herself go limp, cold, and _hot_ at the same time. Lilly pulled back, and cocked her head, curious. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. "You look like you just finished playing a one-sided game of dodge ball, and guess which side you were on?"

"Funny. No, yeah, I-I'm great! Never been better! It's just a little warm in here, don't you think? That knucklehead Jackson must have turned off the A/C." Miley fanned herself as she walked to the thermostat, and tinkered with the dial.

Lilly shrugged. The Stewart household's cool, artificial air had been a refreshing contrast to outside's mugginess, but Miley was a proven drama queen so Lilly didn't think much of it. Lilly smiled, and nudged Miley's shoulder. "What's in store for our exhilarating week of nothing but Miley and Lilly time?"

"I don't know. Something along the lines of fun, fun, and more fun? I figure we can just wing it. After all, we are talking about us. We could have oodles of fun with a ball of yarn and some knitting needles, and that's me being generous with the props. Come on, Lil, I'll help you settle into my room."

They each picked up a bag. "Dang girl!" grunted the brunette. "What do you have in this thing? A six piece bedroom set?"

"More like my neighbor's hacksawed Rottweiler, you know, Jaws? The one that bit my favorite skateboard into driftwood?"

"Ew. Morbid, much?"

"Not nearly as much as I pretend to be, all for your benefit too. I just love that scrunchy grossed out face you make."

"Thanks," Miley huffed as they scuttled up the steps. She pushed past her bedroom door and placed Lilly's bag on her bed. "I cleared out a drawer and some closet space so just help yourself to as many hangers as your heart desires," she smirked, clandestinely eyeing up her friend. "Are you hungry?"

Lilly's stomach gurgled on cue, and she clutched it, rubbing and patting at it soothingly. "_Sshhh_!" She spoke at her stomach, before sheepishly addressing the brunette,"I thought you'd never ask," she sighed, lowering her voice to a whisper,"There's some major upheaval going on in here."

Miley giggled, patting Lilly's stomach in turn. "Aw, Lils! Don't worry, after a big fixin' of Daddy Stewart's cooking that upheaval will turn into a peace summit. I'll heat up a plate, and you can start unpacking."

"Thanks, Miles! You're the best!"

The brunette gave her a sassy wink. "Don't I know it."

After Lilly gobbled down firsts, and then seconds, the girls settled on the couch, languidly flipping through channels. Midway through a program about worms, Miley's phone began to bleat, unnerving the pop star. She hopped over the back of the couch, and shut the phone off without so much as a single second of hesitation. Miley had long surpassed the point of feeling shame when it came to enforcing her selfish need to have unspoiled alone time with her best friend. She grumpily plopped back on the couch, allowing herself to rest her head on the blonde's lap. Lilly's hand automatically petted her hair. She wiggled and sifted her fingers through the soft locks, and the rhythmic motion wholly eased Miley's prior annoyance. "You're so comfortable," mumbled the brunette.

Lilly smirked. "I try, I try. After all, it's only like my dream to go pro with my much coveted furniture impersonation abilities. Today, a headrest, tomorrow… a coffee table… The possibilities are truly endless."

"You're lame sometimes, you know?"

"I know, but one of us has got to be lame. The way I see it, I'm doing you a favor."

Miley shot a lazy grin up at the blonde. The motion was slow and sexy, pretty lips hiking upwards to reveal pearly teeth. Lilly shrugged off the wrenching warmth that had ploughed into her gut right then and there, and forced herself to watch the segment on tape worms.

"I think you have tape worms, Lil."

"Huh?"

"Those are the little suckers behind your insatiable appetite, and ability to eat monumental amounts of food, while sustaining a cute physique."

Lilly laughed. "Nah."

"Okay," she pouted. "Maybe my theory is a teensy weensy bit of a stretch."

"Yeah, just a teensy bit." Lilly pressed the power button, effectively putting an untimely end to the Worm-umentary. "Let's do something else."

"Like?"

Miley's question was met with a throw pillow to the face. The brunette _oomph_ed, giving Lilly enough time to slide off the couch and trample up the stairs. Miley sat up, fire and amusement blazing in her eyes. "_Lillian Truscott_!" She bellowed, shooting after the blonde haired girl.

A meek _eeeep_ could be heard resonating down the staircase as Miley's noisy footsteps quickly gained on Lilly.


	2. Steal My Kisses

The two girls collapsed on Miley's bed, stomach-side down and panting from the exertion of their pillow fight. Miley, the underdog, had dominated the game from start to finish, landing blindsiding blow after blindsiding blow until the blonde, rendered pillowless, dove onto the floor, furling her limbs against her body in a last ditch effort of defense.

Lilly tapped Miley's foot with her own. "Has anyone ever told you that you hit like a man?" she teased.

Miley scrunched her nose. "Not quite. Has anyone ever told you that you hit like a _girl_?"

Lilly aimed a halfhearted squint in her direction. "You're treading a fine line, Miley Ray Stewart," she warned, rolling onto her back.

Their giggles soon hiccupped, and smoothed out into a serene quiet. It was the perfect atmosphere for thought delving, and Miley took advantage of the opportunity, mentally laying out the finalities of Lilly's surprise birthday bash. She hadn't brought up the fact that Lilly's birthday was in two days, but she'd been giving the special occasion careful deliberation for weeks, elated at the prospect of impressing her best friend.

Lilly turned onto her side, peering down at Miley with her head propped up in one hand. "Just so you know," she started, weary of whatever Miley had been trying to oh-so cunningly arrange for her birthday. The brunette was utterly tactless when it came to strategizing and executing surprises. "I don't want anything extravagant on Wednesday. No ponies, no piñatas, no clowns, or strippers pouncing out of birthday cakes, deal?"

Miley's eyes widened at the revelation, cursing Lilly's eerie intuition. She quickly picked up her fumble, batting her lashes at the blonde, and giving the girl her best dumbfounded look. "Why, whatever do you mean, Lil?"

"Miley…" The effect was similar to a slap on the back of the hand.

"But it's-"

"Miles…" Her voice grew sterner, like a firm spank.

"But I-"

"Miles!" Sterner still, a solid lash of a belt to a deserving behind.

Miley huffed, tossing up her hands. "Okay! Okay. If you want a regular ol' plain Jane birthday then who am I to put a halt to the snooze-a-palooza?"

"Thank you," she sighed, hopeful but not entirely convinced her friend would nix her plans.

Miley bit her lip, and gestured at an inch with her thumb and pointer finger. "Just a little party?"

Lilly rolled her eyes, jumping up onto her feet for a quick oval-shaped pace. She grunted, kicked her legs, sighed, and finally tossed in another eye roll before speaking, "Because, as Miss Streisand so eloquently put it, you are the wind beneath my wings, I'm willing to compromise. I'll allow a _minute_ celebration, Miles. Double, triple… nay, quadruple emphasis on minute."

Miley nodded her head as she blurted, "Yeah, yeah, sure! Just Oliver, and a couple other people. Now come sit back down." She patted at the space beside her, smiling when a gloomy faced Lilly conceded.

The brunette swung an arm around the other girl's waist, tugging her in close for a hug. She guiltily reveled in the suffocating proximity.

Miley lay stiffly as Lilly shifted in her slumber, trussed a leg over her slim waist, and drew her in closer. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and chanced an agonizing gaze at the blonde. The room was illuminated by the spill of moonlight peaking in through the window. Her eyes traveled over Lilly's form, _hungry_. The blonde's shirt had ridden up in all her sleep acrobatics. Miley's eyes lingered on the smooth expanse of exposed skin, and she bit her lip, feeling molten heat shoot up and down her body, settling between her legs. She imagined tasting the creamy flesh, running her tongue along Lilly's taut stomach, dipping it into her bellybutton, dragging it lower… She wondered… What would Lilly's reaction have been if she had woken up to Miley's _warm_, _wet_ tongue? Would she gasp, writhe, and moan, look down at her with those gorgeous eyes full of urgency, and silently beg by tangling her fingers in Miley's hair, and pushing her hips harder against her mouth? It made her shudder.

Miley stifled a pained groan, and forcefully pried her eyes away, cheeks flushed. _God, Miley, you're turning into a creepy eye rapist_, she screamed in her head, both astounded and relieved that torrents of steam hadn't poured out of her ears. She glanced back at Lilly's face, zeroing in on her luscious mouth. Miley considered giving her a soft peck. Just one harmless little press. She bit her lip. _Now or never_, she thought as she cautiously dropped her head down, and gave Lilly's lips a delicate, barely classifiable kiss. She pulled back up quickly, panting, bothered, stomach nearly rupturing with the fluttering force of a bazillion butterflies. Lilly never stirred.

The brunette guiltily climbed off the bed, tip-toeing away, intent on sleeping anywhere else Lilly wasn't. Halfway to the door, her foot stumbled over a lone shoe, sending her onto the ground with a loud crash. She cursed at her untimely clumsiness, frozen in a crouch as she heard Lilly rustle on the bed, and then the blonde's sleep drunk voice, "Miles?"

"Yeah, Lils?" she answered, damning the unusually thick husk in her voice. It was concentrated desire, a dead give away.

"Where are you going?"

"Um… Nowhere, just to the, um, to the bathroom."

"Oh." Lilly snuggled back into the blankets, and mumbled, "Hurry back, k?"

"Uh huh."

Miley made a beeline for the bathroom. She slammed her back to the door, and slid down, nestling her face in her hands. _Stupid move, Miley! _She clenched her jaw, and crawled to the shower, reaching for and twisting the knob. She made sure the water was akin to ice before wriggling inside, not even bothering to disrobe. She gasped as the water bombarded her body, weighing down her jammies. The pop star drew her knees to her chest, and lifted her face towards the spray, making her tears indistinguishable from the ice water.

The brunette was up at the crack of dawn. She hadn't slept well despite Lilly's all night touchy-feelyness. Her sleep had been addled by a nightmare involving Lilly, herself, and a deserted island. They took turns keeping watch at night, and foraged seaweed when the sun was up. The washed up green slime was the only sustenance afforded to them by the unforgiving landscape. After several weeks, the hunger had literally crazed Lilly. During her turn as watch, her delusional brain conjured up a juicy hamburger in place of Miley's face. It spoke to her in fragrant wafts and grill-top sizzles, and she succumbed. She figured the brunette would never wake to a slight nibbling sensation, and rationalized that it was only a nibble. One bite-sized little morsel she'd probably never even miss. The blonde leaned in and bit off a chunk of the sleeping girl's nose, and that's where Miley had shot out of sleep, sweaty and a little disoriented.

Now, the guilt had gnawed its way from her subconscious mind to her conscious mind. She sat downstairs, racking her brain for a suitable means of amending last night's intolerable act. She was determined to make up her kissy rapist slip-up to Lilly, and as she thought about it, she figured the best place to start was with breakfast. Miley figured the way to the blonde's heart could very well lie somewhere in her bottomless stomach.

Miley danced across the living room, and into the kitchen, revitalized by her newfound purpose. She pulled out all the ingredients necessary to make a fluffy stack of orgasmic pancakes, and went to town, doing her best to give IHOP a run for their money.

Upstairs, Lilly's eyes slowly opened. Her nose had gotten a whiff of something wonderful, offsetting her beastly stomach. She rubbed the last traces of sleep from her eyes, and rolled out of bed, intent on following that mouthwatering aroma. She reached the bottom of the staircase, and peeped at Miley in the kitchen. The brunette was squeezing fresh orange juice into a glass with zeal. Miley looked cute. Her hair was tousled, and trussed up in a messy ponytail, and her face was painted up in smudges of flour. She had a bounce in her step, a lingering smirk on her lips, and a glow in her eyes. Lilly watched her for a few moments longer, before piping up, "Okay, who do I have to do to compensate for this act of kindness?"

Miley looked up, startled. "Dang it, Lil! You scared me! Stop being silly, it's an act of kindness of the random variety."

Lilly trotted over to the counter. "Well in that case, could you pick out all the pulp from that orange juice? It makes me gag. And when you're done with that, be sure to touch base with me, bitch, I've got a load of laundry at home with your name on it."

"Charming," smirked the brunette, picking out a strainer from a drawer.

Just as Miley went for the glass of juice, Lilly snatched it up and took a healthy gulp. "What's that for?" she laughed, pointing at the strainer.

"I was going to de-pulp your OJ."

Lilly growled. "Stewart, you dirty, dirty girl! Say that to me again."

Miley blushed, and gave the blonde a hearty shove. "You're such a punk sometimes!"


	3. Redemption Pancakes

"One person's punk is another person's treasure," she sang.

Miley forked a couple pancakes onto a plate, dead center, and served it to Lilly. "For you, oh magnificent one," she said, adding a half-assed curtsey to her presentation.

"Magnificent one," parroted Lilly with an exaggerated sense of contemplation. "Magnificent one," she repeated, rubbing her chin. "Nah, too pompous for my tastes. Either tone it down a notch, or stick to boss." She poured syrup over the lukewarm stack, and picked up her fork. "This looks delicious, and if my hunch has anything to say about it...," she trailed off, forking a piece into her mouth, "Yep…," she chewed,"yummy."

Miley perked up. "Really?"

As cute as Miley was, Lilly couldn't resist exploiting her kind, genuine nature. Sometimes her efforts paid off, and Miley's cheeks turned an adorable crimson. With that intention in mind, Lilly shoveled another bit of pancake into her mouth, and let out her best bogus porn star moan. She rolled her eyes back, and slapped her hands onto the counter, clutching at the edges tightly, and shaking for all she was worth, until she allowed herself to slide off the chair, and onto the ground for the grand finale. There she lay panting, and limp.

Although the display had been a painfully staged overstatement for their mutual amusement, Miley couldn't help but flush and flinch at the tones Lilly had vocalized. She forced her gooey legs to carry her to the other side of the counter where the blonde still lay on the floor. "Get up, Miss Jameson," smirked the brunette, kicking at Lilly's limp foot. "Your co-star's Viagra is kicking in, and you'll be needed on the set in 10." She offered an outstretched hand.

Lilly giggled, and clasped it, pulling herself onto her feet. She reclaimed her chair, and continued to eat breakfast. "Aren't you going to have any?" she grunted around a bursting mouthful.

Miley, leaning casually against the counter, simply said, "I'm not hungry." It was true. Guilt didn't grant her much of an appetite.

Lilly shrugged. "More for me."

"Oinker."

"Well, I am the poster child for the save the whales campaign. It's my duty to live up to the stigmas and stereotypes, otherwise people would get scared. A world without labels is like a can of soup without a label… intimidating."

"Say what?"

Lilly took a deep breath, and launched into her explanation, "Well, there's this label-less can of soup in our pantry, right? Last week I came home from school starving, I mean, my stomach had been threatening to collapse since like 4th period. So I raided the kitchen, the fridge, the cupboards, even my brother's mini-fridge which was a whole world of bad news, by the way, but that's another story. Anyway there wasn't so much as a single saltine cracker in sight. Before you go calling CPS on my mother, it was grocery shopping day, alright? So, the only thing I could find was this can of soup, but I was too scared to open it. I mean, was it chicken noodle, mushroom, clam chowder, pea? You know? I'm strictly a chicken noodle type of girl. I know what you're thinking, Miley, why didn't I just open the damn thing and find out for myself? Well, my Mom and brother aren't really soup eaters, I mean, don't get me wrong, they'll have the stuff once in a while, but they've gotta be in a soup eating kind of mood. If I had opened it, and gotten any variety besides chicken noodle, it would have just gone to waste, and then I would have started thinking about all the starving children in the world, and gotten all repentant-y."

The brunette trembled with the force of her laughter, it was an all encompassing mirth, from her painted toes to the hairs on her head. "What made you so sure it was soup?"

Lilly's eyes widened. "Exactly!"

Miley caught her breath and shook her head, an ever-present smirk fixed on her lips. The blonde finished inhaling her meal, and dropped the utensils, sighing dramatically as she pushed the empty plate away, and patted her stomach. "Keep feeding me like this, and maybe, just maybe, I'll actualize your dreams and make a happy spouse out of you one day," she teased.

"I wish," muttered Miley, low enough to fall on deaf ears. She cleaned up the counter, and rinsed the dishes before popping them into the washer.

The girls spent the morning lallygagging. Miley went along with every one of Lilly's harebrained whims. That day, repenting for the previous night's sins equated to an hour of collecting washed up sand dollars, treating Lilly to a movie and a tub of popcorn bigger than Uncle Earl's paunch, degrading herself to the status of quarter dispenser girl at the arcade, and falling on her ass one too many times after Lilly proclaimed that the brunette should "totally learn how to skateboard". Two futile hours and countless scrapes into the lesson, Lilly sheepishly retracted her statement. Lilly fell asleep first, curled up on the couch during a _Powerpuff Girls_ re-run. Miley gently untangled herself from the blonde, and retrieved a blanket from the linen closet. She snuggled up to the slumbering girl, and spread the blanket over their bodies, mumbling a hushed, "I love you," into her ear before surrendering to sleep.


	4. Lexi

Miley woke up in good spirits. The sun's rays were orange-pink send offs, the pistol signaling the start of the race, _Lilly's 16__th__ birthday_. Today was Miley's chance to single-handedly fashion what she greatly hoped would be one of the most memorable events of Lilly's life. She carefully maneuvered out of the blonde's grip and tip-toed upstairs for a session of extended preening, knowing full-well that the other girl would sleep through the process and then some. She wanted to look thoroughly alluring. She showered, exfoliated, and moisturized every inch of her body, applied just the right amount of make up, and styled her hair flawlessly.

Miley, wrapped in a plush white towel, burrowed through her closet in search of the undisclosed outfits she had purchased weeks prior: one to be worn during the hours leading up to Lilly's party, and the other for the event itself. She threw on the first outfit: a playful strapless corset top, and a pair of low-waist skinny jeans that couldn't have been any tighter if they were vacuum sealed. She eyeballed her reflection in the mirror, and gave herself a wink of approval before stepping into the finishing touch, a pair of adorable ballerina flats.

When she finally made her way downstairs, she was surprised to find the blonde seated at the breakfast counter, casually drumming her fingers to the beat of the music video on TV, and finishing up a bowl of cereal. "Good morning, birthday girl, I hope I'm not interrupting your morning feeding frenzy?" called Miley.

Lilly swiveled around in her chair to look at the brunette. When the blonde's eyes connected with Miley's figure, the pre-loaded smartass comeback died at the back of her throat. She swallowed. "Miley, you look…" she trailed off unintelligibly, eyes still raking across Miley's body.

"_Hot_?" Miley did a twirl, suppressing her excitement over Lilly's apparent reaction. "_Stunning_?"

Lilly gradually snapped out of her reverie, regaining her tongue's sharp footing, "_Decent_."

Miley leaned forward and squinted at Lilly, as if spotting something on the girl that she wasn't quite sure of. "Uh, Lils, you've got a little something." She motioned to the corner of her mouth.

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Let's face it, if your ego got any bigger, it would be solely responsible for sucking up the world's entire oxygen supply."

"If that puddle of drool got any bigger, there'd be a state-wide flash flood warning."

Lilly shot her a grumpy face. "Touché."

After another short exchange of words, Lilly excused herself to shower. Miley waited until Lilly's footsteps disappeared before whipping out her cell phone, and dialing Oliver's number.

"Yep?" he answered.

"No formal greeting? Ollie, I'm wounded."

"I've told you once, and I'll tell you again, formal greetings are reserved for acquaintances, authority figures, and romantic interests, capiche?"

"Yeah, yeah. Is Warren with you?" Warren was one of Lilly's skating friends, and today, a simple pawn in her birthday scheme. Miley had arranged for the boy to "spontaneously" show up, and invite Lilly out for a nice long surf, or whatever really. Miley wasn't partial to any activity as long as it got the blonde out of the house, and afforded her enough time to set up the party arrangements.

"He's been here for an hour. Will you give us the go ahead already? He's already eaten a week's worth of Toaster Strudels." Oliver sounded legitimately perturbed.

"I guess you guys could start heading on over. The birthday girl's still getting ready, but I don't think she'll be much longer."

"Thank you," sighed Oliver. "Warren, put it down! Enough with the Toaster Strudels!"

"See you in a bit," she laughed, before hanging up.

Miley waited patiently for the other girl to resurface, anxiously chewing over the party details. She had decided upon a whimsical carnival-esque theme. Miley had really planned to outdo herself, contacting and collaborating efforts between all sorts of crews and services in order to achieve the perfect product. Lighting and sound crews were to set the mood and prepare two dance floors, one at the center of the house, and one on their patch of private beach. A popular DJ, booked months in advance, was to be expected. She had hired circus performers—unicycling clowns, world-class stilt walking jugglers, sword swallowers, fire eaters, gypsies, fortune tellers, the whole freaking gamut, even going so far as to rent a few small-scale carnival rides, game booths, and a beautiful menagerie of exotic animals and their trainer, in the offhanded chance anything were to go wrong. Miley was unsure as to what Lilly's reaction would be, but guessed that it'd go one of two ways: the blonde would either kill her on the spot, or love her that much more for all her hard work. She hoped for the latter.

Lilly came bounding downstairs just as Warren _ding-donged_. Miley, doing her best to contain her enthusiasm and failing miserably, practically ran to the door. "Warren," she said loudly, hoping her fake surprise was believable. "What are you doing here? Look, Lilly, it's Warren. _How shocking_!"

Beneath his overgrown bangs, Warren's eyes had bugged out at the sight of Miley. _The girl was feverish_! "Hey, Miley," he grinned, lop-sided. "You're looking good today." He turned his head inward, to a befuddled Lilly, "Lilly! How's it hanging, birthday girl? I thought we could catch a couple waves or something to celebrate today's, like, totally momentous occasion."

Lilly cocked her head to the side. "Nah. Try again." She walked up to the boy, and initiated their patented hand shake. Miley thought it was a goofy-looking testament of their immaturity.

"We could check out the skate park, and terrorize the noobs. I heard there's a lame bunch of youngins trying to claim the turf as their own. Lame as in hard-up on any skills, even the basic slides and grinds, can you believe that ish? Probably just a bunch of pretty boys grounded off Myspace for a couple weeks," he laughed.

"As disturbing as that breaking news is, I'm not in the mood for skating, or anything that requires more than minimal effort. We'll tear the pretty boys new assholes on Monday."

Warren nodded, partly dejected and partly nerve-wracked, knowing that Miley's plans banked on his success at distracting Lilly. "Alright, well, I've got a couple new PS3 pre-releases. My Uncle Ky hooked it up. Remember him? He's one of Sony's, like, highest ranking video game designers now. It's pretty sweet."

Before Lilly could answer, Miley shoved them both out the front door. "Lilly, for Pete's sake, go on and enjoy yourself! I'll be here when you get back. I know you love me, girl, but dang it, quit being such a parasite. Have fun!"

Lilly began to protest, "But-"

Miley quickly cut her off. "Ah, ah, ah! Not another word out of you, Lillian. Scram. Beat it. Vamoosh! Remove yourselves from my property before I contact law enforcement, I'm _that_ serious, got it?"

Lilly frowned, but stalked off with Warren in tow. Miley could hear irritation in Lilly's voice as she grumbled, "What's her problem?"

As soon as they had retreated a safe distance away, a nearby bush rustled, and Oliver's hushed voice followed, "_Pssst_, Miley! Is the coast clear?"

"Yep."

"Could you, uh, help me out of these thorns then? My shirt and pants kind of got snagged in a hundred different places."

Miley rolled her eyes. "_Smokin' Oken_!"

Lilly and Warren approached their destination in considerably good timing. The house was a couple streets away, not everyone's idea of walking distance, but nothing painful either. There was a red Miata on the driveway, one that Lilly hadn't seen in two years. "Is that Lexi's car?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah! Dude, _I'm sorry_, I totally blanked, and forgot to tell you," he laughed, nervously palming the back of his neck, "Lexi's home for the summer."

Lilly stood still, contemplative. "That was unexpected."

"Is it going to be cool?" asked Warren, no stranger to the two's history. "I could run in, grab the games, and then we could boogie over to Zach's. He's determined to spend the summer playing video games anyway."

"No, it's totally alright. I'm just a little shocked is all." She shrugged her shoulders, and pinched his cheek before darting off. "Come on, Weenie Warren!"

He howled and bolted after her, spurred by his loathed 5th grade nickname. As they reached the front door, gasping and giggling, he took it upon himself to announce his victory in their pinching war, getting a solid one in over Lilly's four point score. "I'm really off my game," she grumbled. "Can you believe Miley actually clobbered the lukewarm crap out of me at a pillow fight?"

Warren laughed as he unlocked the door. "No way."

"Way."

"I've gotta admit though, that girl is fire! Did you see her back there? Instant _schwiiing_ factor! I might ask her on a date, what do you think?"

Lilly winced at his words. Although that particular language was a common occurrence between them, the fact that the comments were directed at Miley nonplussed her to no end. "Down, boy," she snapped. "I'd strongly advise you against it. I mean, unless you like getting shot down. Some people are into humiliation, and you might be one of those lucky few."

"Hardy har, Lilly," he sighed. "You're probably right. Ah well, at least I've got my good eyesight, dexterous right hand, and apt memory to keep me warm on those cold, lonely nights."

"You're sick. Really." She spoke dryly, feathers entirely ruffled.

They shouldered past the doorway, and immediately jogged up the steps and into Warren's room. "Ew. What is that raunchy smell?" teased Lilly, poking at Warren's hot button issue. Ever since his mom had found a moldy pizza slice under his bed, and announced it at his 12th birthday party, he was sensitive about any topic regarding weird smells and his bedroom.

"Cut it out, Lilly," he warned, sticking his chin out indignantly.

"Alright, alright," she cleared off a section of his bed, and plopped down while he set up the game, and handed her a wireless remote.

"Kung Fu Assassinator?" she asked as the title sequence popped up.

"Yeah, don't let the stupid name put you off. It's pretty gnarly. You can actually decapitate people via karate chop, nun chuck, ninja star, or sword. I give it 6 out of 10 stars. The plot's kind of wack, I must admit. Basically, Gio, the main character, was rejected by the local dojo as a kid for being a butterball so he vows to exact vengeance on every one of his childhood tormentors, and that's where the game takes off."

Lilly scoffed at the plot details. They played for one whole uninterrupted hour before a light knock arrived at the door. "Come in," yelled Warren, slicing a head off with his character's bare fist. "Yes! That's talent, Truscott. That combo takes some wicked finger skills! Just call me super thumbs, wait, no, make that… thumbs of steel!" He bounced a little as he spoke.

The door creaked open. "If my memory serves me right, Lilly's got _wicked_ finger skills," spoke the intruder, a mischievous lilt in each word.

Lilly's skin prickled at the voice. It was still sexy as hell, feminine with a touch of static-y husk. Despite the sudden urge to whip her head around, she kept her eyes trained to the screen, and her agile thumbs jabbing at the controller.

"Ew! Gross," grunted Warren. "You made me lose a life point!" He sighed, and turned towards his sister. "What do you want?"

Lilly paused the game, and twisted her top half towards the girl at the doorway. "Hey, Lexi," she spoke, a sly smile on her lips before she could register and detain it. Her eyes ate up the older girl. Long brown hair, hazel eyes, impossibly long legs... She was as beautiful as ever.

"Hey, Lil," she rasped, face illuminated by her toothy smile. "Look at you, all grown up. I like it."

"Thanks. You, uh, don't look so bad yourself. College life must be treating you well," Lilly mentally cursed herself for being such a lame spazoid. There was something intimidating about Lexi that had never failed to render her stupid or at a major loss for words.

Warren rolled his eyes, and threw his hands up in defeat. _Not again_, he thought. "I give up. I'm gonna go downstairs and bake some brownies. Just don't do it on my bed, alright? That's all I ask!" He pouted all the way out of his room.

Lexi stalked towards Lilly, and claimed the vacant spot beside her, scooching in close so that their knees touched. "Happy birthday," she greeted, dragging a well-manicured finger up and down Lilly's leg, circling the kneecap before moving back up. "You didn't think I'd forget, did you?" She giggled a little.

Lilly's chest tightened. The two girls had shared a fling during her freshman year. The only people aware of the scorching affair had been Warren, Oliver, and a couple of Lexi's old pals. Lilly had been too chickshit to clue in Miley. The inferno had always been there, even as everything came to an abrupt end due to Lexi's college bound departure. They agreed keeping in touch would have been an unnecessary agony, and cut their ties entirely, with the open ended possibility of a reunion in mind.

"I've missed you," sighed Lexi, batting her hazel eyes. She leaned in and nuzzled her face against Lilly's neck, letting her lips kiss and suck at the tender skin. "Do you want to go to my room?"

The blonde's stomach fell. A well-known desire settled in its place, and she stood up, gently tugging at the older girl's hand. Despite Lilly's growth spurt over the past two years, Lexi still stood taller than her. Lilly lead them across the hall, into the room she had spent many restless days and nights in. It had been a place of comfort, among other things…

As soon as the door clicked shut, Lexi gripped Lilly's wrists, and pinned her tightly against the wall. She captured the blonde's lips with a moan of relief, as if she'd been itching to kiss those very lips every second of their two years apart. Lilly ripped her hands free and ran them up and down Lexi's sides, before tangling them in her long brown hair. She tugged at her tresses a little roughly, soliciting a pained groan, and dropped her hands back to the older girl's waist, looping her fingers along the top of her skirt. Lexi hissed, and pulled away, growling, "God, Lilly, you still drive me crazy, you know that?" Her breathing was ragged as Lilly slipped her hand up her short skirt, firmly cupping the swollen heat between her legs.

Warren made his way back upstairs an hour later, a plate loaded with brownies and a tall glass of milk in either hand. He could hear the muffled moans, and other noises, the dirty whispers, the thuds against the walls, and the telling squeaks of the mattress. He grimaced, and locked himself inside his bedroom, beelining towards his stereo, intent on using the music to choke them out. He only hoped they'd be satiated and presentable when Miley called them back to her place. His sister had always been such a whore for his blonde haired friend. How embarrassing would it be to walk into your surprise birthday party disheveled and smelling of sex? He giggled, shook his head, and resumed his game of Kung Fu Assassinator.

Back at the Stewart household, everything had rapidly come together in the hours following Lilly's exit. The sun was already starting to dip down, and nearly all the party guests had arrived, some with kegs or bottles of alcohol, which Miley had grudgingly allowed, hoping no one made a sloppy drunk fool out of themselves for their own sake. If it got too rowdy she'd have no choice but to enforce the hired bouncer's brute strength.

The brunette was in her bedroom, slipping into outfit number 2. It consisted of a gorgeous satin babydoll dress which showcased her long, supple legs, and a flattering pair of sexy heels. Underneath it all, to kind of tie the whole grown and sexy theme together or so Miley had reasoned, lay a drool-inspiring lingerie set. She eyeballed herself in the mirror, twirling slowly to inspect her reflection at all angles. "Dang, girl," she hissed.

She sat on her bed and phoned Warren. "Hey," she greeted. "How's Lilly holding up?"

"Uh, fine, I guess—"

"You guess? She's been with you the whole day!"

"Well, actually, she was with me for like an hour before my sister snatched her away…"

Miley's face fell, a brooding jealousy prevailing above all other feelings. "Lexi?"

"The one and only," he chided.

"When did _she_ get back?" The venom oozed through the phone line and into Warren's ear canal, making the skater boy shudder.

"Like last night. She's not technically back, just on summer break."

Miley had always felt an unexplainable envy towards his sister. The year Lexi had been a senior at Seaview High, Miley was obligated to accept their friendship and the fact that the older girl was rightfully entitled to scrimping her out of at least 50 percent of Lilly's coveted attention. Ever since Lexi left for college, Lilly had been solely hers, and she wanted to keep it that way. "Well, whatever. Can you just get Lilly back over here, please? Everything's ready."

"Will do, Capitan.

"And Warren?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"Any time, Miley."


	5. Surprise!

Lilly lay sprawled across the bed, a single sheet haphazardly strewn over her naked body. For some hazy reason, a sharp twinge of guilt had enveloped the blonde immediately preceding their romp. Sure, the sex had been pleasurable, but despite her best efforts to focus her undivided attention on Lexi, her mulish mind continuously pulled her thoughts in the direction of a different brunette...

Lexi, blissfully unaware, sat beside her, back pressed up to the headboard, and a single knee bent as she sealed a joint with the tip of her tongue. Pot smoking was not a foreign concept to Lilly. She had dabbled in Seaview High's _puff-puff-pass_ subculture under Lexi's guidance a handful of times. Although the unique sensations were never unpleasant, she had never taken a real liking to it. Lexi, on the other hand, always kept a stash nearby. Productive, active, and exuberant, Lexi didn't fit society's preconceptions of the stoner archetype.

The older girl lit the end, filling her lungs to capacity with two hits. She turned towards Lilly, and motioned to her lips, beckoning the blonde to participate in a shotgun. The younger girl smiled, and leaned up, letting the sheet fall down to her waist as she pressed her mouth to Lexi's, and accepted the smoke. Lilly exhaled quickly, coughing as the harsh second-hand smoke left her irritated throat.

Lexi laughed, and rubbed the blonde's back. "Amateur," she teased.

"Whatever. At least pretend to give me some credit? You've been smoking since you were in pull-ups."

Lexi winked at her before taking a couple more drags. "You want this?" she asked, in that tight-lipped way to keep the smoke down.

Lilly shrugged. _Why not_? She couldn't think of a single reason. She inhaled slowly, letting it ease down as opposed to sucking a show-offy load in. She knew a hard toke would surely make her regurgitate a lung, as well as an additional, neighboring organ.

"Hey, _sister fucker_," yelled Warren. He banged on the door. "Miley wants you back! What is that delicious odor, you little weed rats? It smells like a dank buds factory in there. You better have some for me, or I'll tell mom and dad you're being stingy."

Their parents had been active members of the hippie era, managing to escape the 70s as resilient lifers even when all their other hippie friends had yielded to societal pressures. They each subscribed to medical marijuana cards, and held bi-monthly council meetings to disscuss the legalization of the herb.

Lexi opened the bedroom door in her bra and panties, the half-spent joint dangling from outstretched fingers. "Ew," squealed the boy, promptly lidding his eyeballs.

"Stop being a dweeb. It's like a bathing suite," she said, dismissing his prissiness.

Warren pulled a face, but reluctantly opened his eyes. He motioned for Lilly to get up. "We have to go," he sang. "Like 10 minutes ago. I thought I'd give you an extra couple minutes in case my sister was being extra whore-ish."

Lexi slapped him over the head. "You're only jealous that Lilly scores more poontang than you ever will. You should consider a career as a eunuch." She laughed.

"Bitch."

Lexi smirked and took a drag of the joint, rolling her eyes back before waving it in front of Warren's face in a slow, rolling rhythm. His eyes followed the swaying object, mouth watering in anticipation. Lexi blew a thick gush of smoke towards his face. He quickly sniffed at it, nostrils expanding and contracting rapidly, like a puppy dog licking at left-over gristle. "If you want to hit this, and much, _much_ more over the summer, you'd better be nice to your big sis. I brought bags of this stuff back with me from college. There's this guy who sets up shop right from his dorm room. He even delivers, cool, huh? The best part is that it's primo, unfathomably primo. Like nothing you've ever burnt before. I mean, the epitome of one hit shit."

He grit his teeth. "I'm sorry for being a jerkwad."

She smiled, and gifted him the rest of the joint. "Thanks, twerp. Now go away so that Lilly can get decent." She shut the door.

Lilly had ditched the modesty of the bed sheet to search for her missing articles of clothing, struggling slightly as the high kicked in.

"You can borrow something to wear," chided Lexi, walking over to the closet to pick out an outfit. She loved dressing the younger girl up.

"Thanks. Oh, yeah, Miley invited a couple people over for a little birthday get together. You're more than welcome to crash it."

Lexi smiled. "Of course." She handed the girl a pair of tight, ass-accentuating jeans, and a simple, yet elegant black halter top. It had somewhat of a plunging neckline, which showcased a generous amount of skin.

"You look good enough to eat," purred the older girl. "Why don't we just ditch the party and stay here? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Lilly shook her head, masking her exasperation with a gentle let-down, "As enticing as that offer sounds, I can't do that to Miley. She was looking forward to this."

"Alright. To the party, it is," sighed Lexi, poking her bottom lip out as she straightened her top and mini skirt. She gave herself a quick sprits of a fruity smelling perfume, and re-touched her lip gloss. "How do I look?"

Lilly gave her a quick once over, and a thumbs up of approval. "Hot."

"Good." Lexi slipped a baggie full of green and a pack of zig-zags into her purse. She handed a bottle of eye drops to the blonde. "Your eyes are a little red."

"Thanks," sighed Lilly, dispensing a drop in each eye. Miley was as unaware of her pot smoking as she was about their past relationship, and she wanted to keep it that way. She dropped the bottle into Lexi's purse, and shouldered past the door. "Warren! Let's go!"

They trotted down the stairs, and squeezed into Lexi's Miata. The two-seater car gave Lilly no choice but to sit on Warren's lap. "If you pop a bone, I'll kill you," she joked.

Miley sat down by the front door, anxiously awaiting Lilly's arrival. It had been well over half an hour since she had called Warren. They should have been there already. No sooner after calculating the likelihood of some type of accident did Lexi's Miata roll up the driveway. Miley could hear laughter and music blaring from inside. _Oh great_, she thought, disappointed and slightly hurt that the blonde had invited the older girl without informing her first.

The frown on her face gave way to a dopey lovesick look as Lilly awkwardly slid off Warren's lap to stand on the driveway. Miley's breath hitched. The blonde looked luscious in her uncharacteristic get-up. She wet her lips, and gulped down the knot in her throat. "Lilly," she called, voice raspy and low with desire. The blonde didn't hear her. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Lilly!"

The blonde girl's head snapped towards her direction, a big grin in place. "Miles!" she hollered, running up on the girl. "You look radiant," she said it playfully, but meant it. The brunette looked downright scrumptious. She helped Miley onto her feet, and held onto her hand as she gave her a slow twirl. "If you got any hotter, my eyeballs would melt off."

Miley laughed, blushing all the while. "Cheesy, but nice. Thanks, Lilly, you look…," she swallowed, "beautiful, too."

Lexi, leaning against her car as she observed the two's interaction, rolled her eyes. Lilly's friend was so obviously crushing on the blonde. It was cute, in that painfully pathetic kind of way. She elbowed Warren, and made a gagging motion, before swooping down on the scene, and hooking her arm with Lilly's. "Hey, Miley," she greeted.

"Lexi," returned the pop star, mirroring the older girl's lackluster tone. "How have you been? It's been a heck of a long time."

"Can't complain."

Awkward silence befell them as the group made its way to the front door. Miley grabbed Lilly's hand and tugged her forward as she pushed the door open. "Surprise," said Miley, biting her bottom lip.

Lilly's initial reaction was minor annoyance, but the more and more her eyes drank in, the less angry she became. It was really gorgeous. Miley had obviously planned the party out to the tiniest of details. She heard random people giving her birthday wishes as Miley lead her throughout the house, but all that registered was a swelling in her heart, and a deeper appreciation for her best friend. She gave Miley's hand a sharp tug, signaling for the brunette to stop walking. The pop star, still uncertain of Lilly's feelings, kept her gaze low, and her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. Lilly placed her hand beneath Miley's chin, and lifted the girl's head up so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "Thank you, Miley," she whispered. "I love it."

The sincerity in Lilly's eyes made Miley weak at the knees. "Are you sure?"

Lilly nodded, and gave her friend a hug. _Yes!_ Miley's spirits soared, reaching astonishingly high heights. She felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. She hugged Lilly back, letting her head rest on the blonde's shoulder. It was such a perfect moment, and before she could contain herself, three dreaded words came out of her mouth, "I love you."

She could feel Lilly tense in her arms. _Oh no_, she hissed at herself. _God, you're such an idiot! _Miley didn't dare pull away. She prayed to God for a little assistance, swearing to volunteer her time to charitable causes, promising to be good for years to come, the rest of her life even, if only the Supreme Being could throw her a bone…

And then it happened. The clouds parted, opening the gates of heaven, and Lilly said the words that Miley had been longing to hear, "I love you too, Miley." Lilly pulled back and gave her the patented grin that made her belly flop like a fish. "I mean, you're my best friend. Duh! Of course I love you," she giggled, ruining the moment, shattering Miley's dreams into a zillion pieces, maybe more.

The feeling was indescribably bad. Miley had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from crying. She was sure her eyes were broken and watery. "I have to use the bathroom," she whispered, rushing off without so much as a warning.

Lilly watched her friend go, and was about to follow her, when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. "Hey, Lilly! Happy birshday!" It was Oliver, slurry, jolly, definitely a little trashed Oliver.

She gave him a grin, and a solid pat on the back. "Thanks. How many drinks have you had?"

"Jush a lil!" He admitted, leaning against her as he spoke. "I shaw Lexi! Did you know she was here? She's shooo hot." He had a sloppy grin on his face.

"Yeah."

"Oh, cool. Lishen, Lilly, I'm gonna jush, I'm gonna go freshen up my drink, and then I'll be back, okay? You want anything? Don't, don't anshwer that. I'll surprishe you! Don't go anywhere!" Before she could stop him, he darted off, swaying this way and that.

"Lilly, there you are," Lexi hollered from within a group of unfamiliar people. People tended to flock to the girl like moths to a flame, and from the looks of it, the older girl had already attracted a sizable crowd. "Come here!"

As soon as she was within touching distance, Lexi looped her arm around the blonde's waist, and pulled her close. "This is my lover," she introduced, "Say hi."

The unfamiliar group quickly greeted Lilly, and Lilly gave them a lame, "Hello."

"Isn't she beautiful?" purred the older girl, giving Lilly a peck on the cheek. "Excuse us for a while, we're going to go dance!" She didn't give Lilly a choice in the matter.

The older girl led her all the way to the dance floor. A Nine Inch Nails song exploded from the speakers.

_You let me violate you_

_You let me desecrate you_

_You let me penetrate you_

Lexi's dancing style was vulgar, straight up sex on legs. Despite the crudeness, she didn't come off as skeevy or skanky, just _hot_. More than a few people stopped to stare at them. Lilly worked well with the older girl, raking her fingers through her hair, running her hands all over her body. A random boy tried to dance his way behind Lexi, but the older girl just shoved him away.

_Help me _

_I broke apart my insides_

_Help me_

_I've got no soul to sell_

_Help me_

_The only thing that works for me_

_Help me get away from myself_

Lexi always demanded, and provoked fireworks. They moved and gyrated against each other, playing off one another's energy, building the blatant sexual tension between them steadily, like a teeter-totter.

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

_I want to feel you from the inside_

_I want to fuck you like an animal_

_My whole existence is flawed_

_You get me closer to God_

Miley, now composed, finally left the comfort of her bathroom. She walked around the house looking for Lilly to no avail. Luckily, she spotted Oliver. He was slumped against a table topped with cups and alcohol. He had a red party cup in one hand, and an open bottle of Vodka in the other. He was staring at something with lusty intensity. Miley stomped up to him, and spoke, "Oliver." No dice. She tried again, louder,"Oliver!" Still nothing. She reached out, and shook him.

Oliver nearly dropped the glass bottle as Miley startled the shit out of him. "Miley!" he gasped, breathing roughly. "You freaking shcared me!"

"Sorry, Oliver." She crossed her arms across her chest. "Have you seen Lilly?"

Oliver gave her a dopey drunk grin, as if she had asked the world's dumbest question. Who hadn't seen Lilly? She and Lexi were the spectacles of the party! He nodded.

"Well? Where is she?"

He put the bottle of Gray Goose onto the table, shut one eye, and pointed towards the dance floor. "Riiiiight there," he said.

Miley followed his direction, and nearly fell over on the spot. Lexi and Lilly were practically _fucking_ on the dance floor! _Fucking_! Her blood boiled, her nerves screamed, her stomach felt nauseated. She wanted to jump on Lexi's back, and claw her stupid, pretty face off, and then slap Lilly silly. _Stupid, oblivious Lilly. Stupid, ungrateful Lilly!_ That should have been her on the dance floor, dry humping the blonde amidst a sea of onlookers. She could have screamed bloody murder, hell, she could have broken into a mouth-frothing conniption. Instead, she swung around and picked up an empty cup, pouring a generous helping of Gray Goose into it for good measure. She lifted it to her lips, and downed the vile liquid in one go, before refilling it.

Oliver gasped at his best friend. Miley wasn't much of a drinker, let alone someone known to pour herself a drink. "Take it easy, Miles," he cautioned, wondering what had gotten into the brunette.

She paid him no mind. Who the hell was he to tell her to take it easy? He was as shitfaced as anyone else, if not more. "Back off, Oliver," she growled, sloshing more Vodka into her cup.

She turned back around towards the dance floor. The Nine Inch Nails song had long been over. Lexi and Lilly continued to dance into the next song. It was "All Over You" by The Spill Canvas. _Fitting_.

_Yeah, he's a looker_

_But I really think it's guts that matter most_

_I displayed them for you_

_Strung out about from coast to coast_

_I am easily make-believe_

_Just dress me up in what you want me to be_

_I'll take back what I've been saying for quite some time now_

_Cute_, thought Miley, taking a sip each time their eyes happened to connect, evoking an expression she had yet to see on Lilly's face.

_I gotta feel you in my bones again_

_I'm all over you_

_I'm not over you_

_I wanna taste you one more time again_

_I'm all over you_

_I'm not over you _

Oliver shook his empty cup, and sighed. "Well I think they make a good looking couple," he said, brain too mucked up by alcohol to notice the slip.

Miley nearly spit out her drink. "_What_?"

Oliver shrugged. "I mean, I don't know what their relationship shtatus is now, but they were a cute couple. I mean, before Lexi moved away. Don't you shink so?"

Oliver regretted every saying a word when he saw the look on Miley's face. He swore her eyes had flashed red, and then green, like blinky Christmas tree lights. She let out a crazed laugh. _I really am stupid_, she thought, laughing even more hysterically. _I'm so fucking stupid, and Lilly knew it. God, I'm so dense! _The signs had been staring her in the face all along. The jealousy and envy she had felt towards Lexi wasn't all made up in her head. It was her innate gut feeling ringing the alarm bells, telling her something fishy was up, because Lilly sure as hell wasn't telling her anything. On top of all the other horrid feelings, she felt a profound betrayal. She choked down the rest of her drink, snatched the entire bottle, and stormed off to her bedroom, preparing herself for the nuclear-scale meltdown that she was about to rain down upon the entire party.

_God help Lilly Truscott_.


	6. One Too Many

Lilly retreated from the dance floor many songs later. A light sheen of sweat made her skin glow prettily. Lexi had clutched at her, wielding a disheartened puppy dog face. She begged her to stay, exploiting the hell out of her pretty hazel eyes. When Lilly failed to surrender, the older girl quickly dismissed her with a flick of her hand and a fiery little huff. "Fine!" she had burst.

_Same old Lexi_, Lilly thought, suppressing an eye roll. The older girl could be obnoxiously self-centered, and although it aggravated her, she promised to return.

Lexi smiled sweetly, slipping her hand into the blonde's back pocket as she leaned in to whisper, "You better." The words were both a threat and a promise of sexual gratification which made Lilly's stomach involuntarily warm with want.

After failing to locate Miley and Oliver, Lilly wandered outside. She scanned over the booths, exterior dance floor, and rides once, and then a second time, squinting at a vague, Oliver-shaped figure by the dunk tank. The boy stumbled, staggered, and fell, accidentally taking someone's cotton candy cone with him. She could tell the boy's bumbling antics were angering nearby partiers. Lilly sighed and charged towards the scene, convinced of the drunken idiot's identity. "Oliver!" she called, reaching the fallen boy. She helped him onto his feet, and allowed him to lean on her as she led them back into the house.

"_Shanks,_ Lilly!" Lilly had always thought Oliver sounded a lot like Scooby Doo when he was drunk.

"Don't mention it," she grumbled, dumping him onto a vacant chair. "No more drinks, okay? You look like a trainwreck." She couldn't help but laugh. The picture op was too good to resist. Lilly took out her cell phone, aimed it at the cheesing boy, and shot a candid photo. She snapped a few more for good measure before tucking the phone away. "Where's Miley?"

Oliver shrugged.

Lilly bit her lip in thought, and gave the area another meticulous scan. Where was Miley? She seemed to have up and disappeared. Her eyes wandered to the staircase. It had been blocked off by velvet security rope. Maybe the brunette was upstairs? "Stay put, Ollie," she ordered.

Oliver touched his pointer finger to his thumb and mouthed a slow,"Okay."

Lilly eased over to the staircase, swinging her head left and right to make sure the coast was clear before hoisting her legs over the rope and tip-toeing up the stairs. She approached Miley's room, turned the knob, and gave the door a gentle push forward. She spotted Miley before Miley could see her. The brunette looked miserable. Her fingers seemed rigid and white with pressure around the red party cup she'd been nursing since earlier. She was seated on the floor, back against her bed. The bottle of Gray Goose sat beside her, keeping her company. "You definitely should have a chat with your security detail. Sneaking up here was easier than your Aunt Dolly," piped Lilly, laughing a little at her own joke.

Miley slowly looked up, and Lilly mistook the fury in her eyes for a thorough lack of amusement. "Sorry," she coughed, embarrassed. "That wasn't even remotely funny. It was super crass, and super tasteless. I don't know what I was thinking…" She stepped into the room, and shut the door behind her. "If it makes you feel any better, my Aunt Mabel is _skaaaanky_. If you look up skank in the dictionary, there's a little picture of her face beside the definition." In all actuality, Lilly didn't even have an Aunt Mabel, but she figured the fib would make Miley grin, anything but that caustic glare.

If it was any other day, under any other circumstance, Miley would have cracked a smile, but it wasn't. She continued to look at Lilly, through Lilly, with that same infuriorated intensity. The blonde suddenly felt antsy. That burning look made more than just her skin crawl. "Miles?" she asked, voice hesitant and shaky. "Are you okay?"

For whatever reason, something inside Miley seemed to click, animating her. She cocked her head to the side, and spoke, "What makes you think I'm not okay?" Her eyes locked onto Lilly's.

Lilly dropped her gaze. "You just seem distant."

Miley laughed, emptied her cup in one swallow, and tossed it aside. She stood up on her feet, and made her way towards Lilly. Her walk was languid, sexy, and intimidating, if a little wobbly from all the booze. Lilly felt herself shrink backwards, cornered, like prey. Miley advanced until Lilly was firmly against the door. They were merely centimeters apart. Miley smelled of vodka and expensive perfume. The pop star leaned in even closer. Lilly could feel the brunette's ragged breaths against her neck. Miley got lost in the dizzying proximity, momentarily forgetting her rage. She breathed in Lilly's scent, and her body seemed to ice over. "You smell different," she whispered, recoiling slightly. It was more of a growl than anything else. She realized why Lilly smelled different, and the feelings came flooding back, invigorated. _She smelled like Lexi_.

The rage, fueled and amplified by alcohol and hurt, overwhelmed her. She felt a need to do something drastic. She surged forward, and slammed her lips against Lilly's. She was desperate to make the other girl feel her turmoil. The liplock wasn't Miley's ideal first-time kiss, it was meant to be Lilly's punishment. It wasn't sweet, leisurely, or tender. It was hard, and fast. Her tongue demanded entrance into the other girl's mouth, and claimed it. Lilly gasped, and moaned at the same time. She couldn't help but feel aroused by Miley's sexual aggression. She allowed herself to kiss back, making Miley growl in pleasant surprise. Miley's brain wandered, evoking counterfeit images and thoughts of Lilly and Lexi. _How did they kiss? How did they touch? Was Lilly as receptive to the older girl? Had they fucked?_ It was all too much, and before Miley could process it, she growled and bit down on Lilly's lip, causing the girl to whimper and hiss in pain.

Miley stumbled backwards as Lilly touched her mouth. Her lips were swollen from all the rough kisses, and her bottom lip was bleeding. _Good_, thought Miley. "You deserve that," she said out loud, like a petulant child.

Lilly's initial shock caved into anger. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Miley?" she spat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She shot the brunette a lingering glare, and stormed out of the room.

"No," squeaked Miley, stomping after her. The nerve! Lilly had no right to be angry! "No, you can't do this! If anyone's getting pissy, it's me! Come back here, Lilly! I'm not done talking to you."

"Yeah? Well I am," she growled, never stopping or slowing her strides. She was nearly at the foot of the staircase.

Miley struggled to keep up, cursing her stupid high heels as she gripped the walls to keep from tumbling over. "You don't have a say anymore," she hollered.

Lilly aimed an over-the-shoulder look that conveyed something close to _oh, please_, before disappearing into the crowd. Miley triumphed over the tricky steps minutes later. It had been a laborious trek. Now that she was ready to ream Lilly's ass, the girl was nowhere in sight! Karma sure worked in mysterious ways. She huffed, and stalked off in one direction, figuring she'd comb the place out top to bottom. There was no hiding from her impending wrath!

Lilly had immediately sought out Lexi. Miley's callous display had left her confused, and hurt. She wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind. She spotted the older girl by the back door, smoking a joint with her brother, and three strangers. She tugged on Lexi's arm, and the older girl greeted her with a luminous smile. "Hey," she rasped, brushing Lilly's hair away from her face. It took a second before she realized the blonde was in some sort of distress, and her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What's the matter?"

"It's Miley," she sighed, "I don't want to talk about it. Can we go, please?"

"Is everything okay, Lillypad? Did she do something to you?" Lexi placed a hand on either one of Lilly's shoulders, carefully examining the younger girl's face for any implications.

"Can we just leave? _Please_?" Unshed tears rimmed Lilly's normally vibrant eyes.

Lexi nodded. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. Are you coming, Warren?"

"I'll just walk home later," he said, figuring some alone time would do Lilly justice. He rubbed Lilly's back, and spoke softly, caringly, "Try to buck up, Truscott."

She sniffled, and offered him a thank you nod. Lexi wrapped her arm around Lilly's shoulder and led her towards the front door. As they walked through the dense clustering of partiers, Oliver spotted them from the sidelines, pointing them out to Miley. The young brunette slitted her eyes and advanced, wasting no time. She pulled Oliver with her, disrupting the sip of cranberry and vodka he was about to take. The liquid splashed onto his face, making him splutter. It dripped down his chin, and onto the front of his shirt. He groaned in frustration, but kept his legs moving, deciding that whatever was going on with his best friend outweighed the significance of a prominent stain.

Miley and Oliver jumped in front of the retreating girls. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, pure rancor.

"Taking Lilly home," was Lexi's curt reply. She tried to weave around Miley, but the young brunette moved with her, blocking any attempts at escape. Lexi laughed. "I don't have time for your juvenile high school games, Miley. Maybe that's why Lilly would rather find comfort in my bed," she sneered. "Honestly, I don't know what she sees in you two losers." She addressed Oliver's shock. "That's right, Oken, you too."

By now, the crowd of partiers had broken their previous formations and fused into a giant circle around the bickering group. A few people had their camera phones out in anticipation of a cat fight. "You know, Lexi, I feel sorry for people like you. At some point, you'll grow old, and that pretty face you take so much pride in, well guess what? It ain't going to be worth a second glance. Someday you'll be saggy, and alone. No one will want to be around you because without that face, all that's left is ugliness." Miley spoke confidently. "Anyone can vouch for me. It's just a shame Lilly's too busy _fucking_ you to see it."

Lexi's face was a dark red. Her eyes were crazed. She had long retracted her arm from Lilly's shoulders. The blonde stood behind her, eyes wide. How did Miley know? How long had she known? The current events began to blur. She was too caught up in astonishment to focus. Lexi took a step towards Miley, but the girl didn't budge.

"You're just jealous. You've always wanted Lilly for yourself, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes, the way you touch her, dote on her, take careful consideration in your wardrobe choices, _please_! You think that's going to impress her?" She spat, eyeing Miley up and down. "Well it doesn't. While you're pining for her, probably wondering what it would be like to run your hands up and down her body, to have her… I've got her in my bed, doing things you've only ever imagined! Let's face it, Miley, you're just a girl, and Lilly deserves a woman. No matter how hard you try, you'll always come up short."

"You think you're so much better than everyone, don't you?"

Lexi smirked. "No. Just you."

"Oh yeah?" Miley's brain raced, searching for something to one up the older girl, zeroing in on a single factoid. It felt like a good idea at the time. The only rebuttal-worthy trivia. She opened her mouth, and yelled, "_ I'm Hannah Montana_!" _Beat that_!

The onlookers erupted in gasps and errant chatter. Was it possible? Could Miley Stewart really be Hannah Montana? Lexi seemed perplexed, opening and closing her mouth several times. Either the girl was really superstar sensation Hannah Montana, or she'd really flown the coop! Neither outcome was too favorable.

Lilly seemed to snap out of her trance, terror seizing her gut in a vice grip. She pushed her feelings aside, and stepped up, laughing loudly, "Miley," she reprimanded, "How much have you had to drink? I'm sorry everyone, Miley's a little wasted," she trailed off, making a drinking gesture. "Last time she got this smashed, she thought she was Britney Spears, post K-Fed Britney Spears. It was a riot! Move it along now, nothing to see. Give the girl some privacy!" She made shooing gestures, and most of the crowd seemed sympathetic.

"No! I am Hannah Montana! Stop it Lilly! Stop lying to them," insisted Miley. The last thing she wanted was for Lexi to win.

The events had sobered Oliver up considerably. He slowly caught on to Lilly's ploy, and jumped in to help keep the crowd moving. "Yeah. She's a drunken loony," he giggled. "_Whoo_! Good one, Miley. Hannah Montana? You crack me up!"

Lexi rolled her eyes, and gripped Lilly's arm. "Whatever! Come on, Lilly. Let's get out of here," she said, lightly pulling on her.

Miley grabbed Lilly's other arm. "No! She's staying here," she growled.

Lexi huffed. "Uh, no, she's not! She's coming with me!"

Both girls tugged on Lilly's arms at increasingly violent increments. Lilly's head ached from all the stress. Oliver tried his best to detangle the girls, but coward under Lexi's glower. He backed off limply, tail tucked between his legs. Lexi pushed on Miley's chest, making the brunette stumble backwards. Miley gasped and quickly regained her footing, rushing forward to give Lexi an equally hard shove. "I'm going to make sure that Lilly never, ever wastes her time with you pathetic nerds again," growled Lexi.

The crowd began to bunch up again, more interested in the prospects of a fight than the Hannah Montana slip up. Miley politely excused herself before snatching a cup out of a nearby boy's hand. She dumped its contents in Lexi's face, making the older girl shriek.

"Lilly," she screamed, "Get this little girl out of my face before I hurt her!"

Lilly did her best to hold them apart, but Miley wasn't helping matters. She continued to struggle against the blonde. Lexi trembled with barely contained fury. Everyone braced themselves for the explosion, and then it happened. Not in the form of catty slaps, name calling, or punches, but out of Miley's stomach. The brunette pushed forward and fell onto her knees, suddenly puking her guts out on Lexi's pretty shoes. Roaring laughter echoed throughout the room. A few people even clapped their praises. Lexi was mortified. Lilly quickly collected Miley's long hair in her hands, rubbing the girl's back soothingly as she continued to empty her stomach. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed for her best friend. Miley really wasn't a drinker.

Lexi backpedaled towards the exit. "Lilly!" she snapped. "Are you coming, or what?"

Lilly shook her head. "I can't leave Miley like _this_," she motioned.

"Whatever! We'll talk about this tomorrow," she sniveled, leaving.

"Oliver, can you tell the security guy that it's time to shut down the party," pleaded Lilly, still rubbing at Miley's back.

"_Oh, God_," groaned Miley. "I feel awful. I'm never drinking," she hiccupped, "again." She promptly clutched her stomach and continued to hurl.

Lilly grimaced and turned her head away, seconding Miley's stance against alcohol. They were able to clear out the entire house in under an hour. Oliver and an apologetic Warren elected to stay to help clean puke off the floors. Lilly practically carried Miley's weight upstairs, and into the bathroom, carefully disrobing the girl. Despite the night's events, and the superfluous volumes of puke Miley had coughed out, she still couldn't help but flush at the lacey sight beneath Miley's dress, or at the fact that she was removing her friend's clothing in the first place. She unclasped Miley's bra and tugged off her underwear. Miley could do little more than moan and groan, so Lilly was left with no other option but to climb into the shower and scrub the girl herself. She tried to keep her eyes focused on Miley's pained face, but was finding it difficult. She towel-dried the girl, dressed her in pastel jammies, and tied her hair up in a loose pony tail, before changing her own wet clothing.

Lilly tucked Miley into her bed, and lay down beside her, stroking her face. Miley made whimpering noises. "Lilly?" she whispered, fighting off nagging slumber. "I love you."

"I know." Lilly kissed the top of her head, and shushed her. "Now go to sleep, Miley. We'll talk in the morning."

The brunette snuggled into her best friend and fell asleep.


	7. Plan B

Someone was surely _killing_ her, boring a hole into the side of her head with a jackhammer, a nail gun, a drill, maybe even a dull spoon. Miley moaned, softly touching her forehead. She opened her eyes, hissed at the harsh morning sunlight, and quickly squeezed them shut. Her corneas must have burned off with a sizzle, an impressive puff of smoke. _God, what the fuck happened to me last night_? Memories came in fuzzy bits and pieces. She struggled to make them conform into a reasonable storyboard account.

She opened her eyes again, slowly, prying them bit by bit and cupping the side most vulnerable to sunray exposure. There was a glass of something and a pack of Alka Seltzer on her bedside table. Propped up on the glass was a single sheet of paper that read: _Drink me_. She obliged, who was she to argue with a seemingly helpful piece of paper? Her teeth gingerly ripped the packet open, and the tablets fell into the glass in two cartoonish _plop_s. She waited for them to dissolve, and then quickly took a chug. Although the liquid did wonders for her dry, cottony mouth, the taste was awful. Taste was a luxury at that point; in all honesty, she would have eaten raw cow eyeballs if they offered her relief, anything to alleviate her symptoms.

Miley swiveled around to look at the warm body taking up the other half of her mattress. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of her best friend. The memories crashed into her all at once. Lexi and Lilly's dirty dancing… the revelation of their secret relationship… too much Gray Goose… the bruising kiss… the confrontation… the _puke_, boy, was there puke. Miley groaned and growled at the same time. Hurt and rage once again filling her gut.

She wanted to shove Lilly off the bed, hurl a bucket of water on her, hit her with a hard throw pillow, _something_ to wake the stupid blonde up so that she could yell at her, batter her fists into her chest, drown her in guilt and send her spiraling into a cycle of brooding self-loathing. Instead, she stumbled towards the bathroom for a long hot soak. She'd deal with Lilly later, when the blonde was coherent enough to properly take in all the ramifications associated with her impending ass reaming.

When Miley resurfaced from the steamy bathroom, hair damp and body covered in a fluffy terrycloth robe, Lilly was propped up and awake. Their gazes met, but Miley brushed her off. She could feel the blonde's eyes following her, and she couldn't help but wonder what the girl was thinking. She subsequently kicked herself for wondering what Lilly was thinking. She shouldn't care. No, from this point out, she'd be an icy impression of her former self. If Lilly was attracted to slutty ice queen types like Lexi, she'd ditch kind, devoted Miley and give her just that.

Miley's back was to the blonde as she untied her robe. She shrugged the material off in one smooth gesture, letting it pool at her feet. She heard Lilly gasp in the background, and the sound of sheets being rumpled, presumably between the blonde's clenched fists. Miley bent down, arching her back as she stepped into a pair of tiny pink panties. When she turned around, she was astonished and relieved that Lilly hadn't averted her eyes. The gutsy display was for her after all.

"What?" growled Miley, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Lilly felt her face go hot. Miley had always been a modest girl. The most naked she'd ever been in front of Lilly (aside from last night's involuntary shower) was in her bikini. The lack of modesty had stunned the blonde, but before she knew it her eyes had a life of their own, sizing Miley up like some starved animal. Although the brunette seemed totally indifferent to the vulgar eyeballing, Lilly couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame. Her gaze dropped. "I'll let you get dressed," she stammered, struggling to stand.

"Why?" laughed Miley. "I've got what you've got. I've got what Lexi's got, and if you can be adult about her, you sure as hell can be adult about me. Right, Lilly?"

"I just—"

"You just what?" She squinted her eyes. "Don't feel comfortable? Is that it, Lil? Aw, how sweet. I'm sorry I can't be more accommodating."

It was the first time she'd felt helplessly awkward in Miley's presence. All Lilly could fathom doing was going home and locking herself up in her room to die, or some fate similar to dying anyhow. "Look," she breathed, "Maybe I should just go home."

_No_, thought Miley. _No! No! No!_ She wasn't through giving Lilly hell. She hadn't even started, but so be it if the blonde wanted to make it harder for herself. She'd let Lilly leave, and use the rest of the week to stew and build, and plan. Miley made a mental note to cancel her Hannah gig. She was sure she'd snap at an undeserving fan, and there was no way in hell she'd give the tabloids the pleasure of fabricating a story. "Maybe you should," she repeated, folding her arms across her naked chest and leaving it at that.

Lilly quickly grabbed her things and bolted.

Once inside the comfort of her room, the blonde pressed her face into a pillow and screamed. _Why are girls so complicated?_ She banged her head, fists, and feet against her mattress until her limbs hurt, and then settled on her back. She needed to talk to Oliver, simple, male, lunkheaded Oliver. "Where's my phone?" she breathed, shifting through drawers, palming her pant pockets, and then turning her packed bags inside out. "Ah ha!"

There were a couple missed calls, one from Oliver, one from her Mother, and three from Lexi. Lexi had also sent her five progressively emotional texts:

1. _Hey. Call me. XOXO._

2. _Okay, this isn't fun anymore… You know how much I hate waiting._

3. _Lil, where the fuck are you? I'm horny, can't you take a hint? You better not be fooling around with Miley. LOL. In case that one flew over your head, I was kidding._

4. _K... Lilly, if you're ignoring me because you are in fact too busy hooking up with that stupid little girl, I swear to God…! You seriously need to learn how to prioritize!_

5. _Whatever!! _

Lilly disregarded all of the text messages with an eye roll. Lexi was seriously the center of her own little universe. She hit redial and scrolled down for Oliver's number.

"Hello," he answered groggily. Oliver winced as he registered the cold puddle of drool beneath his head. He wiped the congealed slobber from his cheek, and sat up.

"Ollie? You sound like death."

"Yeah? I feel like death," he moaned, massaging his temples.

"I bet you don't look too pretty either," she chuckled, crossing her legs at the ankles and kicking her feet back and forth.

"Shit," he ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be alright. How are you holding up? I'm sorry about yesterday…"

"Not too good, thanks for asking. It's kind of why I'm calling. I can't help but feel that something needs to be done, like stat, but I don't know what the hell to do anymore. I can't stand this weirdness. The worst thing is that it's Jerry Springer, over-the-top soap opera weird, you know?"

"Nah," Oliver yawned, opening the fridge. "I'm sure whatever got into Miley will settle itself out. You know how that girl operates. I think it was mostly the liquor talking last night." He pinched the juice carton lip wide open. "She's got the alcohol tolerance of a kitten." He took a gulp, and swabbed his mouth with his forearm.

"Not this time," sighed Lilly, tugging at her ear. "I get the feeling things are seriously fucked up," she whined, "You should have seen Miley this morning. She went all Basic Instinct-y on me! It was scary. Hot, but scary. Needless to say, the scary outweighed the good and I literally ran all the way home. This is not how I wanted shit to unravel. I mean, I've wanted Miley forever, you can attest to that, but not like this!" Lilly's eyes closed.

Oliver nodded. "This is true." He felt genuinely awful for his best friend. He was the only one who knew about her deep-seated feelings for Miley.

"How the hell did she even find out about Lexi? I don't get it."

"Shit!" Oliver groaned, nearly spitting up juice. He was the culprit!

Lilly's eyes widened, interpreting Oliver's telling outburst. The boy was easier to read than a pop-up book. "You didn't," she gasped. "Tell me you didn't…"

"I'm sorry, Lil! I was so trashed. I remember Miley coming up to me, she was looking for you. You and Lexi were on the dance floor, and then I remember… Lil, I'm sorry! I forgot she didn't know. I was so drunk. God, this is all my fault!"

"Oliver, you doughnut!" she cried. She really wanted to give him a stiff, nose-breaking punch. Hell, she would have settled for a swift kick on the ass, or an irritating wood splinter at the very least. It took every scrap of maturity she could muster to suck it up and say the following words, "It's okay."

"It is?" He yelped, thoroughly confused.

"Yes," she squeezed out through gritted teeth. "Yes, it is. Mistakes happen. I'm a reasonable person. I shouldn't have kept secrets from Miley anyway. Let's just assume that this is my karmic retribution."

"I'm still sorry…"

"I know. You're a good friend." She smiled weakly. "Just tell me what to do."

Oliver pressed two slices of bread into his toaster. "Well, why don't you just go along with it?"

Her face scrunched. "Go along with what?"

"Miley's alter-ego. You want her, she's revealed that she wants you. Sure, she's acting a little out of whack, but what the hell? Maybe if you play along and indulge her in whatever therapeutic acting out she needs to do in order to cope with the betrayal, sorry Lil but I call it how it is, real Miley might re-emerge." He carefully removed one of the freshly toasted slices and spread a generous helping of jam over it.

Lilly chewed on her lip. "You think?" The plan had the potential to become an irreparable fuck up, but with the way things were unfolding, the current track wasn't heading in a much better direction.

Oliver shrugged. "Or you could go the straightforward route. Just confront her about it, no bars, no bullshit."

"Oliver, she'll eat me alive. She's way too pent up for a civil chat."

"I got nothing else. What do you have?"

"Nothing…"

"My point exactly. You have to decide whether you want to give this one iffy notion a shot, or sit around twiddling your thumbs, hoping for things to resolve themselves, or hey, you could even try lighting a couple candles at a church, or emptying your piggy bank in that wishing well by the food court... You get where I'm going?"

Oliver was right. Her options were impossibly limited. "You know, Oliver, for a doughnut you sure do have a lot of substance. If Miley's still being dopplegangland-y on Monday then we'll see. For now, let's just settle on labeling this Plan B."

He smirked. "I try."

Monday steadfastly approached. Miley hadn't made any attempts to contact Lilly, and vice versa. The blonde prayed Miley would be back to her usual self. She sat in 2nd period, doodling random animal concoctions, and wriggling her foot up and down. Her eyes did a sweep of the classroom every few seconds. People were starting to slowly creep in, along with Oliver. A good deal of their peers were restless, yammering away about vacation destinations and parties. Summer break was just around the corner, and everyone was itching with anticipation. He threw his backpack on the floor beside his desk, and twisted his body to greet her.

Lilly smiled. "Hey. Have you seen Miley?"

He shook his head. "Sorry."

The class was about to start. Mr. Kortez was at the head of the room, finishing up a spangly diagram on the dry erase board. Lilly grew increasingly nervous as the bell rang, fidgeting helplessly much to the instructor's annoyance. "Lillian, are you alright?" he snipped. His voice was obnoxiously cringe-worthy. His words sounded like they were resonating out of his nostrils.

"Yes."

He narrowed his eyes, but moved on with the lesson. It wasn't until ten minutes into the projection slides that Miley arrived, wearing a skirt that showed entirely too much leg. Mr. Kortez immediately took notice, waving her over before she could slink into a seat.

"That can't be dress code," muttered Oliver, sharing a sideways glance with Lilly.

"Here we go again," Lilly huffed. Not once in her entire academic career had Miley broken the school dress code. It was a striking indication that Miley's bad girl alter-ego was still at the reigns.

The brunette dropped an excuse slip onto the teacher's tabletop, and made her way to the empty desk beside Oliver. She gave him a saucy grin, and Oliver couldn't help but wave, dumbly and limp handed. Lilly rolled her eyes, simultaneously blocking out Miley's hijinx and Mr. Kortez's lecture. She opted to draw a castle and a moat to accompany her previously penned creature creations.

A note fell on her desk. Oliver had dropped the thing, but it was folded too neatly to be Oliver's. She didn't reach for it until she finished scribbling the moat alligator's ridges. The note was obviously from Miley. She didn't want to give the brunette the satisfaction of acknowledgment so she kept her gaze on her hands as she unfolded it. It read:

_No hello? _

Lilly crumpled the paper. She wasn't in the mood for games, or mind fucks. She resumed sketching, adding an additional tower to her castle. _For the damsel in distress_, she decided. Another note plopped onto her desk, and this time she glared at Oliver.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

_Why are you ignoring me?_

Lilly set the freshly crumpled note beside the first one. She saw Miley attacking another sheet of paper out the corner of her eye. "Oliver," she whispered, pressing forward in her seat. "Don't you dare give me another note."

He gulped, recognizing a threat when he heard one. He wasn't too keen on epitomizing the shot messenger boy. When Miley tried to pass along the latest message, he deftly shook his head. "I can't," he mouthed. "Sorry."

Miley gave Oliver a dirty glare that made him recoil in his seat. "Fine," she whisper-yelled.

She turned towards Lilly and tossed the paper herself. It landed by the blonde's foot. Lilly made no move to retrieve it, and then the bell wailed. She quickly shoveled her things into her backpack, and hopped over her desk. She fisted Oliver's shirt and dragged him with her, Miley hot on their heels. They lost the brunette in the dizzying scramble of students opening lockers, closing lockers, shuffling into classrooms; catching up with their friends. They ducked into one of the more obscure hallways, and walked into their Ceramics workshop.

"I see what you mean," grumbled the boy, adjusting his polo. "Miley has seriously flipped."

"Yeah…," Lilly trailed off as they claimed hunks of clay for their projects.

Ceramics was basically a free for all. The teacher was asleep at his desk, per usual. A couple kids were crowded around a brown haired boy who was putting the finishing touches to a decent sized bong he'd been molding over the course of a few class periods. Oliver and Lilly occupied a table by themselves. He was making an ash tray for his grandmother. He always made ash trays for his grandmother. It was the only thing he knew how to make. Lilly was just squishing a wad of clay onto the table.

"I don't think either of us can survive this for much longer. It's time to institute Plan B, you know, what we discussed over the phone?" Oliver looked up at Lilly. Her eyes were stormy.

There was no way she was prepared to play along with Miley's charades. They needed a more elaborate plan of action. At the rate of Miley's antics, she'd end up locking the brunette in the janitor's closet, or the boiler room. She was more grateful than ever for their Miley-less 3rd period.

"I don't know, Oliver," she mumbled. "I think I'll lose it, and end up gagging her with all those notes."

He laughed. "You and I both. I'm seriously surprised she didn't char my skin with her death glare. Did you see that thing?" He shivered.

"Did you see that skirt?" They both shuddered at that.

"In that one isolated aspect, I'd say you're a very lucky girl," he teased.

"Right."

"If she antagonizes you, just brush it off. How about that for a start? Don't play like she's ruffling your feathers. That might be her aim. But at the same time, be considerate and apologetic. "

Lilly scoffed. "Easier said than done."

"She's hurting, Lils."

"Right," she sighed, pinching and pressing her clay lump into a clay man.

The bell rang again, signaling the start of the lunchtime feeding frenzy. Lilly and Oliver paid for their lunches and claimed an empty table. Lilly sipped on her milk, and toyed with her lunch.

"Are you going to eat that?" mumbled Oliver, already eyeballing her tray. He wasn't even halfway done with his meal.

Lilly pushed her food towards him as Jackson approached the table. He never approached them. They were in entirely different social classes. He leaned in close, and whispered, "What's wrong with my sister?"

"I d-don't know," stammered Lilly, unable to meet Jackson's gaze. She couldn't tell him the truth. She doubted he'd want that much information anyway.

"How about you?" Jackson squinted at Oliver. "Are you going to tell me? She's been acting like… someone else. C'mon, Oliver, you're the weakest link. Don't let me down. I'll buy you a brownie. Oh, better yet, I'll give you free reign of Rico's snack shack for a whole week."

"Make that two."

"Oliver!" barked Lilly.

Oliver glumly maintained his resolve. "I don't know either, Jackson. Sorry." The interrogation was cut short when a wide-eyed Oliver peeped Miley heading towards them. "Shit. She's coming," he announced, quickly stuffing a roll into his mouth.

The blonde boy dispersed with an, "Aw, crap!"

"Lilly," cried Miley, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder as she sat beside her. "What is up with you? Why are you ignoring me? You're being such a bitch."

Oliver held back a gasp. Lilly's cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry," she forced, practically choking on the words.

Miley blinked, clearly taken aback. "You are?" Lilly nodded, and Miley's face broke out into a smile. "Good. I knew you'd be sorry. I'm glad you're taking this so well." She sighed, playing with Lilly's hair as if to reward her good behavior.

Oliver continued to stuff his mouth in order to avoid conversation. Lilly's cell phone let out a chirp, and before Lilly could read the screen, Miley's hands had snatched it away. "Ooo," she growled. "It's a text message from Lexi. She wants to know what you're doing after school. What _are_ you doing after school, Lil?"

Lilly stiffened and Oliver choked on his food. "I… don't know," she answered. "What am I doing after school, Oliver?"

The boy shook his head. "Don't ask me. I'm not your keeper." He laughed, throwing his hands up. "Gosh. What a silly question! How would I know? I'm not a psychic. I'm not in tune with the cosmos—"

Lilly frowned. "You can stop now."

"Okay."

Miley sent a reply, and Lilly groaned. "What did you say?" she asked.

Miley leaned forward, lips brushing against Lilly's ear as she spoke, throatily, "I told her you'd be busy doing _me_ after school." Lilly spluttered, making Miley frown in annoyance. She pulled back, crossing her arms. "Or would you rather fuck _her_?"

Oliver and a couple nosey kids at a surrounding table coughed up milk. Lilly covered her face, embarrassed for Miley and for herself. "Miley, please," she whispered. "You're making a scene."

"It's your fault, Lilly," she growled. "If you weren't such an asshole, I wouldn't have to make a scene."

"Right. I'm being an asshole. I guess I can finally check that adjective off the list. This is great. Hey, I've got an idea for you, Miles… Since I'm being such an asswipe, why don't you just, I don't know, leave me the hell alone?"

"Maybe I will."

"Perfect."

Miley stomped off in a flurry, and Lilly dropped her head on the table. "This is hopeless," she groaned.

Oliver patted her head. "You were doing good up until the last 30 seconds or so. Don't worry, Lils, she'll be back, and round two can only be easier, right?"


	8. Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

_Wrong_, was all Lilly could think as she blazed down the shoreline saturated in whatever drink Miley had been casually sipping on at Rico's. It was cold and sticky and served as a competent adhesive for every minute sand particle the frolicsome wind happened to heave in her general direction. She booted shells and soft-edged stones out of her way, then a wayward volleyball, and even someone's misplaced shoe.

"Hey!" yelled an untidy tan boy as he tumbled after the sneaker.

Lilly roved on unapologetically, cursing the stupid boy, and the stupid sun, and the stupid beach, and Rico's stupid fruit drinks, and most of all, stupid, _stupid _Miley. Said brunette was trailing behind her, bug-eye sunglasses pushed up over her forehead and flats loosely clutched in one hand. "Lilly," she called out. "Lilly!"

Lilly entertained the notion behind Miley's sudden interest in stopping her. Was the other girl feeling remorseful? The thought of being on the receiving end of an apology—_any_ apology at this point—made her guts twist with anticipation, and a premature grin spliced her face wide-open. She allowed Miley to sidle alongside her and held her breath expectantly.

_"Aren't you going to buy me another drink?"_

Those were the 8 words that sent Lilly Truscott spiraling over the threading threshold of sanity. She turned to Miley, face the color of pomegranate pulp, and shoved the girl into the wafting and waning tide, past the salty spume and lone bushel of slimy seaweed. Miley let out a formidable shriek as she plopped into the water with enough force to embed each finger in the sand. Her knees sunk as she tried to scramble upward, but Lilly only pushed her down a second time. It became an indiscernible game of sorts with Miley struggling for footing and Lilly daunting every attempt.

It wasn't until the brunette spotted her pretty little flats floating out to sea like ornate driftwood that she looped her arms around Lilly's leg and wrenched the girl downward. Some of the smoothie Miley had spattered across her impromptu Lilly-shaped canvas washed away, along with any of the girls' winded restraint or thinning composure. They went at each other, tumbling and heaving, jerking and pinning, until a swarm of spectators packed around them, and an uneasy lifeguard pushed through, heralding his whistle. The blonde teenager quickly abandoned the futile tool and with a sour frown tugging at his face, dutifully resigned himself to watching.

At the mention of a cat fight, Jackson scrambled away from his post and barreled through the wall of bodies. Rico kept behind him, snaking through the pathway. You could hear the mechanical _ca-chings _sprouting up behind his eyes as he surveyed the scene. "Get me my camera," he ordered, digging his spindly elbow into Jackson's gut. "This would make a great human interest piece!"

Jackson squinted at the girls. They were moving so quickly it was hard to put his finger on their familiarity. "Sweet nibblets," he groaned, dashing forward to pry Miley's wriggling form off of Lilly. "Miley," he yelled, "Miley, calm down!"

"My shoes," she growled, kicking and thrashing.

"It's alright," he cooed. "We'll get you new ones. Just relax, little sis."

The crowd was thinning, losing any post-climatic interest. Lilly scrambled onto her feet, swiping salty hair off her face as she glowered at Miley. "I hate you," she hissed, and she'd never meant it more.

Miley inwardly winced. Visibly, she was cold, unaffected. Didn't blink twice when Lilly twisted her back around or whine as her retreating figure dotted out of view. Jackson slackened his hold on his little sister. "Miles, are you alright?"

The tears came all at once and Miley buried her face in her brother's chest. Jackson stiffened, but quickly sympathized with the girl, doing something he hadn't done since Miley was 8 years old, held her. "Shh, it's okay, Miles. Everything's gonna be fine, don't you cry," he whispered, patting her trembling back.

He drove her home and made her hot chocolate as she changed into her rainy day pajamas. He set her mug on the coffee table and gently plopped down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, voice smooth and delicate.

Miley tugged her arms tighter around her chest. She stared at the coffee table, counted grains of wood until she ran out of numbers to assign, and wiped at her glistening eyes. "I love her, Jackson," she whispered so softly she wasn't sure if she'd said it out loud or in her head.

"I know," he smiled and they shared a short lighthearted laugh.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and confessed, "I think I really screwed things up this time."

"Maybe," he said, lifting his mug. The candidness stung, but Miley figured she deserved it. She wiped at her eyes again and frowned as he took a long sip of cocoa and dabbed at his whipped cream moustache.

He roped her in closer. "But," he sighed, "There's no doubt in my mind that Lilly loves you just as much as you love her."

"Really?" She sniffled.

"Oh, yeah. I reckon anyone that can put up with you 7 days a week even though they really don't have to has _got_ to love you something fierce."

Miley slapped his arm. "Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for. After all, I do love you, Miles."

"I love you, too."

"If you tell anyone I'm anything but a rotten older brother, I'll hurt you."

"Are you kidding me? If I told Daddy about this conversation, I'd lose all my credibility… Speaking of Daddy, how the heck am I going to tell him about Lilly?"

"You're on your own with that one. The love train can only go so far, Miles, I'm not David Blaine."

"Right."

"I can tell you this much, Daddy loves you. He'd love you if you were purple, or had antennas coming out of your head, he'd love you if you turned into a hamster-eating goblin or decided to quit Hannah Montana and start working at Rico's for minimum wage. He'll love you when you're ready to tell him that you like girls and happen to be in love with one. Sure, you can probably kiss sleepovers goodbye and he'll probably whip out the old shotgun and give Lilly the same talking to that he's given all your ex-boyfriends, but those are small prices to pay."

"You seriously have to stop coming up with this sensitive Hallmark-y crap, Jackson. I don't think I can afford to cry anymore."

"I don't know how I'm still doing it. I guess when it rains, it pours, huh?"

"_Ugh._ I'm leaving before you start with the idioms again."

"But I'm on a roll, baby!"

Miley laughed to herself as she sprinted up the stairs. Jackson was a goof and had a knack for screwing up the most stupid-proof of situations, but sometimes when the weather was right and the sun was perfectly aligned with the rest of the cosmos he sure knew just what to say to make a little sister feel better. Heck, maybe it was the power of her rainy day pajamas. Mr. Stewart had told her the pajamas were crafted out of handpicked fibers from the Good Luck Tree and threaded together by the wisest, most revered Shaman of the Louisiana bayou—despite the 'Made in Switzerland' sticker and unmistakable feel of cotton. She smiled and thanked her rainy day pajamas anyway.

Miley stared at her cell phone as she sat on her bed, fingering the spangly doohickey dangling off the end, a present from Lilly of course. She picked at the touchpad and hesitantly dialed Lilly's number. It was the only number she had memorized and Miley rationalized that keying the whole darn thing in was more personal than stabbing at her quick dial key or highlighting Lilly's name in the call log. She also liked the speckles of time dialing bought her. Upon hitting the last digit, she sucked in a breath and jabbed at the hang-up button. She decided she needed practice saying sorry out loud so that Lilly didn't think she was being a big Fakey Fakerson, but ultimately lost her nerve again when the first ring bleated against her eardrum. She chewed on her fingernails and tossed the cell phone on the bedside table. "It's no use," she grumbled, hugging her rainy day pajamas tighter. "Oh, rainy day pajamas, I wish you could talk."

Her phone shimmied to life, blinking brightly and buzzing in a wayward stripe across the tabletop. "Lilly!" she squealed, fanning her face and wiggling against the mattress. She held her breath and answered the call, "Hello?"

"Miley?" Lilly's voice was dry as Melba toast.

"Uh, hey, um, Lilly."

"Are you trying to prank call me? Letting my cell ring once and then hanging up is not very funny, no matter how many times you do it. I counted three. Irritating? Highly, but the haha factor is just not there--"

"_I'm sorry."_

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"Did I hear that correctly?"

"Yes! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, _okay?_ I'm sorry… I'll say it as many times as you want… I just want my best friend back."

"Miley—"

"I know I messed up big. The iceberg that sank the Titanic big. Jupiter big. Kanye West's ego big. I know all that, and I promise that I'll make all of it up to you, even if it means being your bitch until I'm 80. I miss you, Lil. I need you in my life, okay? Even if that means watching you and Lexi suck face on the weekends or eating chocolate ice cream until I puke from listening to you bitch about how much you hate it when she does something annoying until you come to realize that you actually think it's more cute than annoying because that's what best friends do, and I know you'd do the same for me--"

"Miley?"

"Huh?"

"Shut up. I'll be over in ten."


	9. A Long Time Coming

Miley thought that maybe _this_ was the most exhilarating wait in the history of her life. Sure, there were those limo rides to those kitschy award shows, mile-long minutes spent backstage mentally picking herself apart as she waited for her cue to flounce front and center, so anxious she might as well have had her fingers in her mouth, teeth savagely ripping the nails right out of their beds. Never mind the nights she'd nearly rehashed her dinner all over the living room floor, gnarled with dread because she was expecting a renowned music critic's publication the following morning. No, this time Miley was keening with anticipation.

She caught her reflection in the mirror, considered swapping her rainy day pajamas for something more appealing and immediately frowned, citing these sorts of irrational yet persistent pangs of inadequacy as the kindling behind her inexcusable conduct. She had embarrassed herself to near social suicide, Kamikazed her dearest friendships and managed to derail any romantic possibilities with _the _love of her life. She'd acted rashly. _But what teenager hasn't? _She thought, and consequently scowled at herself for being so selfish. _God_, _suck it up._ After all, this wasn't a playground tryst that lasted the course of a shared juice box or a month long relationship to be filed away under incidents of puppy dog infatuation; she could confidently say that Lilly was the crux of her existence. In hindsight, she guessed nothing really mattered, not_ really_, because Lilly would be arriving at any moment and Miley was prepared to grovel, determined to walk on water if the blonde so much as whimmed it.

When Lilly knocked at her doorway Miley was playing with the loose threading on her pajama bottoms. For a moment, she panicked, second guessing her readiness to address the situation. Another knock, a little more insistent than the first. She quickly kicked her legs off the edge of the bed. "Come in," she coughed, distractedly smoothing down her hair.

"Hey," greeted Lilly, a fatigued smile flashing across her face.

Miley thought Lilly looked miserable, exhausted, and perhaps even a little heartbroken. She bit her lip and tentatively patted the space beside her, beckoning her best friend closer with an encouraging slip of a smile. "Sit down?"

Lilly edged atop the mattress, consciously leaving what, Miley thought, seemed like a canyon of space between them. Awkwardness served as a nagging undercurrent and it stung. "Did you mean it?" Lilly asked finally, hooking and unhooking her ankles, sweeping her eyes across the bedroom she could blueprint blindfolded in order to avoid looking at Miley.

"Yes," Miley breathed, surprised by how easily her voice had splintered into a pathetic whimper, "I'm sorry."

Lilly bit her lip, busied herself by picking at invisible lint on her jeans. God, she was going to fucking cry and it was no use trying to pretend like she wasn't. "I'm sorry, too," she admitted, rubbing the back of her palms across her runny eyes.

Miley stiffened, outraged. "For what?" She shook her head. "You didn't do anything wrong! I'm the one that screwed up. I'm the one that—"

"Stop saying that!" She glanced away guiltily, peered into her palms as if they were Teleprompters. "I should have told you the truth about Lexi. I just thought that," she rolled her stinging eyes, "that you'd hate me or something, you know? I was so scared, Miley. I never meant to," she swallowed, "_hurt_ you."

Miley nodded vehemently although deep down, in the recesses of her heart, she felt a stitch of vindication. "I know. It's okay, Lils," she cooed, gently placing her palm on Lilly's trembling back to rub soothing circles along the taut surface. "It's alright." She inched closer, inviting Lilly into her arms with a meaningful look. Miley had only ever heard Lilly cry twice. Her own face was slick, but seeing Lilly in tears made her ache in an unforgivable way.

Lilly clutched on tight, burrowed deep and then deeper into her Miley-shaped cocoon. The brunette was determined to hold on just as firmly for as long as Lilly allowed her to. For all she cared, she could have died right then and there. She shut her eyes and focused on the feel of Lilly in her arms, the tears smattering across her neck. She imagined her tears were staining Lilly's shirt in the same sappy manner. If an ill-timed Jackson had witnessed them, he'd agree that the extent of their yearning for one another was palpable.

The girls settled into a comfortable lull. It was an unspoken agreement that they'd treat this incident much like a used wrapper, crumple it up and toss it behind their shoulders and into the garbage bin of almost trainwrecks and near life-altering disasters. Miley leaned against the wall with her legs crossed and Lilly lay on her back, head resting on Miley's lap. The brunette threaded her fingers through the blonde's hair, massaged her scalp in a smooth rhythm that made Lilly want to cat nap for days.

"Miley?" Lilly's voice was raspy, a little uncertain.

Miley kept her eyes closed, head tilted back against the wall. "Hm?"

"I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too, Lils."

It was only when Lilly pulled away from her that Miley forced her eyes open. She was about to ask why, but the blonde had pushed herself upright and was staring at her earnestly, shyly. "I'm," Lilly stumbled there, reminded herself to breathe in collected strides instead of starved spurts. Her hands were shaking and how the heck could her heart conceivably beat this fast without going _pop_? She'd rehearsed these words in her head for years, allowed this single vibrant notion to keep her up on countless nights, playing and re-playing projections of herself and Miley until her brain snow-screened. Now she realized no amount of preparation could have ever made this effortless. "I'm _in_ love with you."

Miley blanched. She'd waited a lifetime's worth of nanoseconds for that confession. Lilly tilted her head towards the floor, bottom lip secured between her teeth. She let her blonde hair curtain her flushed cheeks and would have, if only she were more flexibly inclined, kicked herself in the ass because Miley was _too_ quiet and her head was spinning with a thousand awful thoughts to compensate for the silence. Lilly held her breath as Miley cupped her cheek and redirected her timid gaze from the floor. The bed sheets bunched beneath her palms as Miley leaned in and pressed a meaningful kiss to her lips. They broke apart and smiled at one another, forehead to forehead. "I'm in love with you, too, you dummy," she rasped.

"Right," Lilly whispered, brushing her mouth against Miley's for a second time. The kiss lingered and bled into a third, which bled into a fourth, fifth, sixth... They stopped counting kisses as day tiptoed into night.

The only light in Miley's bedroom came from the fluorescent moonbeams seeping in through the window. Their lips were bright and swollen, but neither girl felt the sting of too many kisses. "I should probably go," said Lilly, sweeping a lock of hair away from Miley's face.

The brunette seized Lilly's hand and placed a tiny kiss on her thumb. "No," she said, adding another nip of a kiss. "You're staying for dinner, Truscott, and I don't want to hear another peep about it, are we clear?"

"Insanely."

When they crept downstairs, Mr. Stewart was stirring some roux colored concoction in an immense stainless steel pot. They sidled along the dining table hand-in-hand. Miley shot a glance at her dad. His back was turned, presumably engrossed with whatever aromatic dish was bubbling in the pot. She leaned over and pecked Lilly on the cheek. After the initial shock subsided, a kissing war ensued, and when the exhilaration was too much they resorted to giggling into their fists.

"Look who's decided to join us," said Mr. Stewart. He was relieved that the girls had reconciled. The funk Miley'd been bringing into the Stewart household made him twitchy and quite frankly, he'd missed the blonde girl and her eagerness to eat whatever absurdity was presented to her: tofu tacos, scrapple, peanut butter and bacon quiche… Speaking of the adolescent garbage disposal, there was a week's worth of Tupperware with her name on it!

Lilly ripped her mouth away from Miley's cheek so fast it nearly stung; in fact, it should have left a bright pink impression. Wooden legs whined against the floor as each girl shoved her chair in the opposite direction. "How does he do that?" mouthed Lilly.

"Didn't Miley tell you? I got eyes on the back of my head," interjected Robbie Ray, pointing at the spot where his aforementioned set of eyes allegedly burrowed. He turned around and unfastened his apron. "Ears like ultrasonic radar, too."

"Thanks for the heads up. What's on the menu, Mr. S?"

"Gumbo and rice. Wait 'til you taste this puppy!"

"You say that all the time, Daddy," grumbled Miley.

"Let the man finish," insisted Lilly, "it's not every day I get to chat up a culinary genius."

Mr. Stewart waggled a finger at the blonde girl. "Oh, I'm onto you, Lillian."

"Drats."

"I know you've got ulterior motives. I've never had anyone take such an interest in my cooking."

"Politeness always gets seconds."

"Thirds," scoffed Miley.

"Fourths," corrected Jackson as he slid into an empty seat.

"Don't you go picking on Lilly," chastised Mr. Stewart, "My wager is on fifths."

"Hey! Say the word and I'll head straight home. I'm sure my mom can cook up a hot meal. It will be subpar compared to your standards, Mr. Stewart, but a girl can't have everything," Lilly said, fluffing a napkin over her lap.

"Allow me to call your bluff, Lillian," scoffed Robbie Ray. "There's no way in heck you'd turn down one of my home cooked meals!"

She shrugged, "Fair enough."

He set the steaming gumbo on the tabletop and ladled a generous serving over a bed of rice. He dropped the plate in front of Lilly and rubbed her shoulder, "Good eatin'."

"Thanks!"

"What about me?" grumbled Jackson.

"Guest of honor. Bowl. Ladle," said Mr. Stewart, pointing at Lilly and the various items. "Dig in, son."

Miley afforded peeks at the blonde throughout the meal. Watching the interactions between her best friend and her little family only affirmed Lilly's rightful place in her heart. Miley chalked it all up to destiny because what else could explain the annoyingly perfect fit? It superseded logic. "Daddy," she said. "Can Lilly stay over tonight? I know it's a school night, but I promise we won't go to bed too late."

Mr. Stewart picked up his iced tea, "As long as Lilly's mom says it's alright, it's fine by me."

"Thanks, Daddy, you're the best!" She bit her lip when Lilly squinted at her. If her daddy wasn't looking, she might have spelled her intentions out for Lilly, but he was so Miley just smiled, reached over and casually draped her hand over Lilly's knee.

Miley's palm inched upward and Lilly nearly spilled her drink. Mr. Stewart was saying something to her, looking directly at her, but she hadn't heard his question. She couldn't comprehend anything with Miley dragging her fingers in wispy little circles, higher and higher, across her inner thigh, soft and lazy strokes. She couldn't halt Miley's advances without making it obvious because both of her hands were engaged over the tabletop and Mr. Stewart was already looking at her funny.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Is the gumbo too spicy? Your face is redder than the Devil's rear-end."

Miley noted that Lilly had narrowly escaped Robby Ray's suspicion-fueled interrogation. The brunette was seated cross-legged on the rocking bench, fleece blanket loosely draped around her shoulders. She stared out across the ocean and sighed. She didn't understand Lilly's reluctance to spend the night. Miley didn't like this new development one bit. "Don't worry, Lil," she giggled, "I'm not going to guerilla sex you."

"I don't know," said Lilly, pacing towards the opposite end of the porch, "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"It never bothered you before."

"Yeah," she snorted, kicking at the sand granules embedded in the floorboards, "_before_."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Lilly sat down beside her, stole the outermost corner of Miley's blanket. "Before I knew I could kiss you, Miles," she breathed. "Before I knew I could touch you. I don't think I can control myself anymore."

"I don't want you to."

"You don't get it. What if your dad caught us?"

"He'll deal."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"He'll deal, Lilly."

Lilly sighed. "I just respect him so much, you know? And it would just totally suck if he…"

"Hmm?" Miley huddled closer, dropped her head on Lilly's shoulder.

"If he hated me."

"That man may be a lot of things, but he's not a bigot. No way, no how."

"It's not just that, I mean, you're his _little girl_. Remember the psychological hell he put your boyfriends through? Polishing his double-barrel in plain sight?" Lilly gulped. "Imagine what he'll do to me when we tell him about us or when he puts two and two together… all those sleepovers…"

"Oh, there's no doubt about it," Miley exhaled loudly, "he's definitely going to kill you," she nodded, "Yep, and knowing Daddy, he'll probably make it extra slow and ultra painful. You can forget that double-barrel shotgun, Lil, you should see the artillery he keeps out back," she whistled, "Not counting that wood chipper Jackson got him last Christmas…

"Jesus, why would Jackson buy him a wood chipper?"

"Because Jackson knows, Lilly. Jackson knew before we did," she stretched her legs out. "He figured if he had to watch Daddy kill somebody else, it might as well be fun and innovative--"

"Miley!" _Busted._

"What?" giggled the brunette. "I'm just telling you what you want to hear."

"You are _so_ not funny…"

Miley grinned and kissed the blonde's cheek, jawline, neck. "Let me make it up to you," she whispered, maneuvering herself between Lilly's legs. "I promise no one will find out." Miley continued to run her lips down Lilly's neck.

"I don't know…" but the tremble in the blonde's voice was just as good as a yes.

"But I think you do know," she teased, kissing the corners of Lilly's mouth.


End file.
